Spiritual Devotional

Freedom of Religion

2012-03-07T08:48:00.001-08:00

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." [First Amendment to the Constitution, in the BIll of rights].

The United States of America was founded upon the principles of freedom of religion. In fact, this is the main reason that the Pilgrims came to the New World, in order to be able to practice their religion freely. This means that the United States government cannot force upon its citizens one religion over another, nor can it prohibit our free exercise of our faith.

Today, the right to freedom of religion is being seriously eroded. Currently proposed universal healthcare legislation under the Obama Administration would force Catholic hospitals to offer contraception and abortion-inducing medications to patients.

In a recent speech, Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York stated: "We are not trying to impose our teachings on anyone. We are simply saying, don't impose your teaching upon us and make us do as a church what we find unconscionable to do." He urged all of us to "become more involved in politics as the church stands against government in a Freedom of Religion battle."

This is not a new debate. John F. Kennedy was put under enormous scrutiny as the first Catholic to run for President. Americans feared that as a Catholic President, in matters of conscience, Kennedy would follow the Pope and not the laws of this country. In a speech in Houston in September, 1960, as a candidate, Kennedy said, ""I believe in an America where the separation of church and state is absolute; where no Catholic prelate would tell the President -- should he be Catholic-- how to act, and no Protestant minister would tell his parishioners for whom to vote. I believe in an America that is officially neither Catholic, Protestant or Jew; where no religious body seeks to impose its will directly or indirectly upon the general populace."

How surprisingly modern this speech is today! And that is exactly what Cardinal Dolan is saying.

I have written before about how increasingly secular our society has become. [Related post: "A Life Divided" Feb. 3, 1012.] The number of people saying that they are part of no organized religion because they are "spiritual but not religious" has increased over fifty percent in recent years. Freedom of Religion guarantees that we are free to practice our religion, or to choose no religion at all.

But when the government imposes its practices and conscience upon a particular religion, that violates the First Amendment clause barring the government from prohibiting the free exercise of religion.

This Freedom of Religion battle affects us all. [Related Post: "Is Christmas Illegal?]. Kennedy said in the same speech: "While this year it may be a Cahtolic against whom the finger of suspicion is pointed, in other years it has been -- and may someday be again-- a Jew, or a Quaker, or a Unitarian, or a Baptist. Today, I may be the victim, but tomorrow it may be you -- until the whole fabric of our harmonious society is ripped apart at a time of great national peril."

Do we really want to live in an America of religious persecution? I grew up in a home that was deeply suspicious of organized religion and that held no faith in anything at all. I had to learn to hide my faith, tucking my cross necklace under my shirt, going off to church in secret, hiding my Bible in my house. "The desire for God is written upon the human heart". [Catholic Catechism]. My faith is an integral part of me! To fear professing one's faith is a downward slope to despair. It divided me into a public vs. private self, it fractured my soul. I have had to painstakingly piece my faith back together again. I have to repeatedly convince myself that no one will take my faith away. I do not wish this trauma for anyone.

In the end, what is the role of the church in society?

In the speech in Houston, Kennedy said: "I believe that we have far more critical issues in the 1960 campaign-- the hungry children I saw in West Virginia, the old people who cannot pay their doctor bills, the families forced to give up their farms-- an America with too many slums, with too few schools. These are not religious issues-- for war and hunger and ignorance and despair know no religious barrier." Shockingly, we have the same issues today, fifty years later!

I leave you with the words of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.: "The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrevelant social club without moral or spiritual authority. " [Strenght to Love, 1960].

Harsh? To me, not really. This is what we are facing today: a church that, from secular pressures, is becoming marginalized and in danger of becoming irrelevant.

How willing are you - whether Christian, or Jew or Muslim or Buddhist or even atheist-- to stand up and battle for the right to Religious Freedom?

(c) the Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Transfiguration of Christ

2012-03-05T12:14:00.000-08:00

" After six days, Jesus took Peter, James and John with Him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. There appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking to Jesus. Peter said the Jesus, 'Teacher, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three tents -- one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.' Then a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and a voice caem from the cloud: 'This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to Him!" [Mark 9: 2-7].

'Transfiguration" means a supernatural transformation in appearance. This is one of the many forms that Jesus takes during His time, and to my mind, the most awe inspiring one!

Each Lent, this Scripture is presented as a prefiguration of Jesus' glory to come, after his Ascension into heaven. I have interpreted this image to mean that God had a miraculous plan for Jesus .We are privileged to share this dazzling vision of Jesus and his sacred relationship with the Father.

This year, what I notice most about this passage is how the disciples react to this supernatural occurrence, by turning away to build some tents! Are they oblivious to Jesus? Do they so mistake the signficance of the event that they believe they must still prepare for this time of glory in a human way?

How often have I, in my life, spent more time turned away from the miraculous possibilities of the divine, feverishly "building tents?

I come from a family of no faith. They worshipped only human endeavor. If all efforts failed, we had no alternative plan. I did not learn to pray-- not first, foremost, or always.

My family was so dysfunctional, that I was traumatized by age three. All adults-- parents, extended family, teachers, neighbors-- failed me. Not only did I not have God, I did not have humans either.

I am a survivor. I faced stark choices from a young age. As I grew up, I think I slowly realized that I could either implode (destroy myself), or explode (destroy others), or find God. I realize that this is a simplistic list, and not everyone can follow this script. But this is what I found in my own life.

Over the years, I gradually found God. My grandmother was the only one who taught me to pray. When I was a child, she would have me kneel beside my bed, all scrubbed from a bath and in my pajamas, and recite the Lord's Prayer. I had no idea what it meant. I thought "hallowed be" had something to do with Halloween!

Years later,  as an adult, my past came crashing down around me. I decided to convert. I knew that if I did not find a church and work on strengthening my faith, I would be lost. A mentor advised me to meditate on an image of Jesus. I was rattled. I had always gone only to God.

I tried to imagine a picture of Jesus, but all I got was a hazy outline of his robes and hair. There was no face! What was wrong with me? I consoled myself that this is why it is called the "practice of prayer". I was extremely out of practice.

As I began to meditate every day, the past pains came rolling out of me like dark thunder storms. The pain became so huge, I did not know "where to put it". I could not put it on my husband and son (explode). I wanted so deeply to survive, I could not put it on myself (implode).

I had to find Jesus in a more profound way. I found myself sitting in front of the Crucifix in my church. I meditated upon Jesus on the cross. As much pain as I was suffering, Jesus had suffered as well, and more. He, of all people, understood. And He was sent from God. I could give my pain to Jesus. There it would rest.

A few weeeks ago, I entered my church again, in order to meditate. I expected it to be empty. But the church was bathed in a golden light. Candelabra were at the altar. It was the Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. I stopped at the end of the aisle. I gasped audibly, "Ohh!" Then tears sprang to my eyes. The pain flowed freely. It was a profound and healing moment. Finally, I fully understood the call to meditate upon Jesus and His many forms.  I finally understood the even more compelling requirement to receive Christ in the Eucharist.

We all spend way too much time "building tents", thinking that that is all there is. We worship materialism and celebrity and the temples of human invention. We walk through crowds in the street and we feel alone. We sit in obeisance to the thrumming blue screens of our laptops, tablets, smart phones and desktops. We believe we are really connected, but instead we are lonely individuals, isolated in the ether of what only "seems" real.

This Lent, will I continue to furiously "build tents" on a windswep mountaintop, flimsy structures that cannot protect me. Will I be so distracted that I ignore the miracles of Jesus all around me? God says to Peter, James and John, "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to Him!" to listen to Him, we need to seek Him.

Jesus transfigured Himself before His apostles. He can transform us, if we only dare to spend time wtih Him.

God, may I listen to Your Son and never turn away. May I bear witness to all of Jesus' glory in Heaven as I contemplate His miraculous Transfiguration.

[Related Posts: "Walking on Water", and "Transfiguration", March 20, 2011].

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Let Justice Prevail

2012-03-02T13:46:00.001-08:00

World Day of Prayer, March 2, 2012

According to the World Day of Prayer Program 2012, "World Day of Prayer is a world wide ecumenical movement of Christian women of many traditions who come together to observe a common day of prayer each year on the first Friday of March." This year, the women of Malaysia developed the program. Next year, the women of France will present their Order of Worship.

I had the opportunity to attend this event in my town, along with numerous women from other churches in the area. Outside, the weather was a gray, late winter day. But inside the church, the light was soft and beautiful, and I felt at peace.

I present here an edited version of the World Day of Prayer 2012 Program:

Theme: Let Justice Prevail

Processional Hymn: "Let Justice Prevail", written by Pearl Nirmala Richards, especially for this day.

Procession: Several women led the procession up the aisle, carrying the Crucifix, and the flag of Malaysia. Many of the women wore red, displaying a colorful entry.

Greeting: "Selamat datang", meaning "peace and welcome."

"The women of Malaysia extend greeting of peace and a warm wlecome to sisters and brothers all over the world, in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ."

Introduction and Call to Worship: "In Malaysia, we cherish peace. We are a diverse population. Welcome is important to us. Historic migrations of people from other parts of Asia and beyond have created an environment that challenges Malaysians to integrate."

Prayer of Thanksgiving: "Almighty and gracious God,we proclaim your great and marvelous deeds among all peoples."

Opening Hymn: "For the Healing of All Nations"

Monologue: The story of Irene Fernandez, Malaysian social activist and advocate for justice: "My name is Irene Fernandez. I was arrested after writing an article about the torture and killing of migrant workers in government detention camps in Malaysia, who were being sent to detention camps as undocumented immigrants. They were being. . . abused. As director of Tenaganita ("Women's Force"), I heard the cries of the migrant workers. I could not keep silent. For 13 years, I appealed to the courts to overturn my conviction. But we did not give up. I am grateful that the voices of migrant workers were finally heard."

Voices Seeking Justice:
"As Malaysians, we are very concerned about the state of the nation, and as Christians, we ask ourselves, 'Do we engage or stay neutral?' "
"Political affairs [have] become a moral responsibility for Christians."
"We are called to speak out in conscience".
"We are tested when there are restrictions imposed on how Christians use our common language to name God."
"We are tested when conflicts between religious law and civil law pull families apart. Are we to watch in silence?
"We believe that a clear, honest and caring attitude in matters that concern all of society is a part of the witness we owe one another. "

Old Testament Reading: Habakkuk 1:2-4; 3:2, 17-19

Hymn: "How Can We Keep From Singing?"

New Testament Reading: Luke 18: 1-8: The Parable of the Persistent Widow and the Judge

Prayer: for the courage to stand up for justice, in the words of Alan Paton.

Intercessory Prayers:
"Lord, we pray for the leaders of our countries. Grant them the wisdom to know and do what is right and just."
"O Lord, there are many of us who are oppressed and abused, isolated and silenced. We pray for those who are victims of inequalities, oppression, exploitation, violence and abuse."
"Gracious Lord, we pray for migrant workers, and for the weak, the poor, and the marginalized, that their cries for help may be heard."
"O God, may Christ dwell in our hearts through faith. Let us be rooted and established in love."
"O God, you have called us to be instruments of justice in a world of strife and false justice. We pray that you will make strong our hands and make clear our voices."

The Lord's Prayer: Sung in Malaysian, "Bapa Kami". [very moving]. Recited in English as well.

Closing Hymns: "Let There Be Peace on Earth", and "We Shall Overcome".

Worship Service (c) 2012 World Day of Prayer USA

Profound gratitude to the women of Malaysia who developed this program and who led us all in prayer this year! Blessings, peace and justice to all who prayed together today, all over the world!

Love to All,

The Spiritual Devotional

Love is . . . Forgiveness

2012-02-29T12:53:00.002-08:00

"Our aim must never be to defeat or humiliate the white man, but to win his friendship and understanding. To our most bitter opponents we say: 'We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. Throw us in jail and we shall still love you. Send us your hooded perpetrators of violence into our community at the midnight hour and beat us and leave us half dead and we shall still love you. But rest ye assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer.' " [Martin Luther King, Jr.]

In the United States, February is Black History Month. This is a month-long celebration of black Americans who made an indelible contribution to this country. In the month of February, we commemorate the strength of African Americans, who for over 200 years in America, never had a recorded history. This piece is the last of three of the 2012 Black History Month celebration.

[Related posts: "Love is . . . Courage", January 8, 2012; " Love is . . . . Truth", January 8, 2012 "; "Remembering Martin Luther King", January 16, 2012; and Martin Luther King, January 17, 2011].

I remember Martin Luther King, Jr. when I was growing up, but I have dim memories of his place in history. I was a young girl when he was gunned down in Memphis, TN in 1968. Some grown-ups saw him as a galvanizing force, a man of color who dared to speak the truth. Others, in my white world, saw him as a danger to society and to the established order of things. This dichotomy troubled me. Would blacks and whites so deeply disagree that we would see riots and even civil war in the streets, as some adults hinted?

There is no doubt that Martin Luther King, Jr. was a visionary. His words are thrilling, and ring true even today. I know a woman who was a civil rights worker during King's day. She met him and heard him speak. She says that he had such charisma, she would have followed him anywhere.

What is Martin Luther King's legacy today? I have not begun to plumb the depths of his extensive writings. But his message is still modern and relevant in current times.

Martin Luther King said that "there are some things in our world to which men of goodwill must be maladjusted." [Love is . . . . Truth"]. In other words, Love is the discernment of injustice in our world. If we accept the status quo, we accept 'moral degeneracy, bigotry, the insanity of militarism and self defeat.'

Love is also being brave enough to take action. ["Love is . . . Courage"]. I think of the Tuskegee Airmen during WWII, who clearly saw that Hitler's assassination of millions of people was insane-- and who bravely decided to do something about it.

Love in the end, is Forgiveness. For what end would we fight for justice, only to annihilate the enemy in the process? Do we not all want only peace, in the end?

How far would you go to achieve peace, in your family, in your church, in your workplace, in your neighborhood, in your town, in your country, in your world?

I confess that I had to learn love and forgiveness the hard way. My upside down, backwards family was a closed system. The blinds were drawn at our windows at all times, we were an intensely private people, and no one came in to shed light onto the darkness.

At age 4, I almost drowned in a neighbor's pool. My mother pulled me out just in time. My family dealt with every crisis with silence. We never spoke of this event again. I could not fight that repression . I learned to swim

At age five, I was told that I was too old for a nap. The fatigue overwhelmed me, though. I could not fight the fatigue and I could not win the argument over naps. I put myself down for naps from then, on.

At age seven, I was diagnosed with asthma. I did not want this disease that left me gasping for breath and coughing all night. I was told to sit in bed and not get up. I could not fight this, my body was fighting me enough. I learned to love to read and knit and listen to music.

At age ten, there were daily arguments over making me eat the food put in front of me. The battles were becoming intolerable. I could not eat that gluey oatmeal, that cold mush that passed for cereal, the greasy hotdogs, the four day old roast beef for dinner. I ate what I could and left the rest. I learned to eat more lunch at school or more snacks at the neighbor's.

When a family member called me ugly on a daily basis, and sometimes hit me, I hid in my room, or if he invaded that space, I left the house. I learned to walk away.

At age 14, my parents stopped taking me to church. I learned that I could still believe in my heart, even if I could not profess my faith

When I went away to graduate school, I was the victim of a violent crime. I was beaten and left for dead. I almost died that day. My parents visited briefly, saw that I was alive, and left me in that far away city. I learned the kindess of strangers. I earned top grades and graduated with honors.

I agree with Martin Luther King when he said, "We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. Beat us and leave us half dead and we shall still love you."

I agree, because I have lived these principles. Even as a child, I determined to live right, rather than to give in to the offenses against me. I loved my parents, even though they were wrong, and I had to suffer for it. There was no way I could become them. But to survive, I had to make peace. In loving them, I had to love enough to forgive.

HOW could I have done this as a mere child? I believe that my childhood determination was a sign of God's grace. It is also a testament to the human spirit-- the spirit in us that desires, that craves, peace and forgiveness. That longing, in the end, is for LOVE. Love defines us. Love makes us human. Love saves us.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

The Color of Lent

2012-02-27T11:34:00.002-08:00

" God said to Noah and to his sons with him: "I now establish my covenant with you, and with your descendants after you, and with every living creature that was with you [in the ark]-- the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals. . every living creature on earth.. . . This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you, and every living creature with you. I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be a sign of the covenant. Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living ccreatures of every kind on earth." [Genesis 9: 8-16].

In this story from Genesis, God becomes distraught and angry at how the first humans on earth became wicked and disobedient. To save Noah, the only righteous man, God tells Noah to build an ark, and to go on board with all the creatures on earth.

Then, God floods the earth, wiping out all iniquity. When the flood clears, God promises that He will never again flood the earth. He sets a rainbow above the clouds as a sign of this covenant.

I was surprised to read this Scripture this week, for a Mass during Lent. I always thought of Lent as a dark, deep place. Lent is a desert, a gloomy cave, a hidden recess inside me, cradling the depths of despair. I dread Lent. I do not want to go into that place inhabited by my dark side.

I have written before in this space of my experiences of Lent. During March 2007, a dear family friend died of cancer. Then a week or so later, my best girlfriend, who had been battling leukemia, found out that the cancer had returned. Two weeks later, my father died suddenly.

During Lent of 2008, my best girlfriend died, a young mother with a husband and two children.  This is the kind of experience when life feels so painful and so fruitless and so very unjust! You wonder where God is?

In late winter 2009, my mother-in-law died of cancer, which she had been battling for only two months. Then, just as Lent 2009 began, my own mother went to sleep one night and passed away.

During Lent of 2011 and 2011, I have been concentrating on emotional and spiritual healing from my past traumas. This Lent, I am battling some serious health issues, also a legacy from my past.

So, what is YOUR Lent? And what color is your Lent? Do you feel as if you are drowning in a sea of gray? Do you see on the horizon only that sickening green-gray sky, that warns of a tumultuous storm? Or ominous thunder clouds and terrifying lightning?

In this Scripture, God promises us rainbows after the storm! I have actually witnessed this new promise myself! The first time, I thought it was a mere coincidence. My husband and I had traveled out West for a cousin's wedding. When I left work for my trip, I had just uncovered a major fraud on some of my customers, carried out by a client. A firestorm was brewing and I would be on vacation. Sure enough, when I arrived at our first destination, at a lodge at the base of a mountain, the messages were already starting to pile up for me in voice mail.

I barely slept that night. My husband was annoyed, urging me to forget this crisis and enjoy our trip. The next morning, I retrieved a message that my company had been sued-- even though I had discovered the fraud!

I went downstairs to check out at the desk and bring our bags to the car. I stepped out into the fresh mountain air and discovered a hug rainbow, stretching over the mountains! The arc of color seemed to go on forever. I asked, "God? Is that You? Will everything be okay?"

About ten years later, we had bought a house and I had become a mother.  I was not working because I was home caring for our baby. My husband was working hard, in a bad economy, to support us. We were packing for an expensive trip down South to visit in-laws, when we discovered a leak in the basement. A call to the plumber confirmed our worst fears. We might have to rework the plumbing and the main line into the house. That could cost over $10,000!! That was certainly money we did not have.

Once again, I became distraught and could not look forward to our trip. I was anxious and down when we arrived on the ground. As we began driving down the highway to my in-law's, to make matters worse, it began to pour rain. Once there, we took the bags inside and said our greetings.

I decided that a walk might do me good. The rain was letting up. I went outside, and as I was tying my sneakers, I looked up to see the hugest rainbow I have EVER seen. It began behind the house and stretched out over the entire residential development. My son, my husband and my in-laws all came out to witness it.

I started to believe that God really can send me rainbows! I felt as if God had "made everything new". [Revelation 21-5].   I said, excitedly, "This is the day the Lord has made!' [Psalm 118].

We all have to face our Lent. We cannot ignore those dark times. The only way around the Lent in our lives is through it. In my case, my seasons of Lent have sometimes eased, to the point where I have almost forgotten them. In other cases, my seasons of Lent have left permanent damage.

Jesus proves in the Gospel of Mark that we must at times enter the desert. Mark 1: 12 says, "The Spirit sent Jesus out into the desert and he was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him." I become scared and despairing at this image of Jesus battling Satan. I fear even more the battles with my own demons. Will I prevail? Will I sink into a lonely abyss.

But Jesus was not alone! He was with the Spirit and the wild animals, and the angels comforted him. Neither are we alone.

And at the end of our travails is a shimmering rainbow! That is God's promise. He will never let us down. That rainbow is the Easter, the Resurrection, at the end of the long, painful night of Lent. How good it will feel to witness it!

[Related postings: My Lent, March 12, 2011].

(c) the Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

A World of Prayer

2012-02-24T08:36:00.001-08:00

During Lent, Christians are called to spend more time in prayer, meditation and reflection. I was never taught to pray as a child. Now, I find that I cannot do without it!

During Lent, I have added a new feature to this space, called Prayer Requests. To send a Prayer Request, scroll down to the bottom of your screen and follow the instructions in the text. [I have asked for first names or initials only. You may also specify your country location].

This is an experiment, during Lent only. But if it is successful, this feature will continue.

Prayers labeled "Public" will be eligible to be published on a periodic basis in future postings! In this way, the Spiritual Devotional community can pray for each other.

If volume of requests warrants, I will arrange to have prayer requests sent to a monastery, or other religious community.

Event Note: March 2, 2012 is World Day of Prayer! The program this year is being set by the women of Malaysia. The theme is "Let Justice Prevail". Check out the website at worlddayof prayer.net for more information, or Google "World Day Of Prayer International Committee".

Please check in your community for a World Day of Prayer event. If there is no formal event in your area, I would love to imagine you spending a quiet moment in prayer that day, either in solitude or in community with others!

Prayers and blessings,

The Spiritual Devotional

My Visible Faith

2012-02-22T09:15:00.000-08:00

"Jesus said to his disciples, "When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the temples and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have [already]received their reward [from worldly praise]. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father will repay you." [Matthew 6: 106, 16-18].

Today is Ash Wednesday, the day that begins the season of Lent in the Christian church. On this day, Catholics, especially, go to church to receive ashes on their forehead in the sign of the cross. It is a sign of our repentence, a symbol of our deep commitment to following Christ.

Ashes on one's forehead are a very visible sign of being a Christian. There are other signs-- perhaps wearing a cross necklace, or placing a certain bumpr sticker on one's car. These days, it seems, Visible Christian have become targets of biased and even hateful remarks.

We have become largely a secular society. There has been intense debate lately in the United States over how visible Christians should be in our everyday life. Presidential candidates are even trading barbs over who is a more "authentic Christian".

Then, there is the Reading from today, in which Jesus talks about those who would pray conspicuously in public. Is this wrong? Can we Christians feel justified to even pray out loud in public? Jesus teaches us in this lesson that we must pray humbly, in secret, in our inner rooms. Prayer is to be quiet, alone, in secret.

I heard a wonderful story in the last few weeks about a woman named Pam and her husband who were missionaries in the Philippines a few decades ago. Pam became seriously ill with dysentery. She lasped into a coma and received many strong medications. As she recovered, it was discovered that she was pregnant. Because of her coma and the medications, her doctors urged her to abort the fetus. But she had prayed for a son.

Pam asked God, " If you will give us a son, we will name him Timothy and we will make him a preacher." This reminds me of the story of Samuel 1: 24-28, and how Samuels' mother Hannah brought Samuel to the priest Eli to be dedicated to God. Hannah said to Eli: "As surely as you live, my lord, I prayed for this child, and the Lord granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord."

The woman, Pam, in our story did give birth to a healthy baby boy. She did name him Timothy. Who is this Timothy? He is Tim Tebow, starting quarterback for the NFL Denver Broncos football team. And he prays in the field, kneeling down, head bowed, during games. This public prayer stance has been labeled "Tebowing". Young school children have taken to mimicking him, but there have been many raised eyebrows over this public prayer.

There have been furious criticisms of Tebow in the press, based on the Scripture from Matthew above, regarding not praying "on street corners". People are saying that he is hypocritical, or a show-off.

I say no. Tim Tebow is a seamless Christian. He refuses to make his faith a hidden part of him. He is not ostentatious, he is genuine in his faith. His life is dedicated to God. He makes no apologies to that.

I hate to see a world in which we are afraid to show ourselves as Christian. When I was fourteen, my family stopped taking me to church. I think my parents wanted me to be sure that I was not a "little heathen", unbaptized, unconfirmed. But after those rites were accomplished, we ended our religious affiliation. My parents' "mistake", if you will, was to take me to a place where I would come to believe in God and in a sacred faith inside me.

My faith had been kindled in that church. When church was taken away, I took my faith underground. There was nowhere else for it to go. I became a fractured Christian, an Invisible Christian. This is still painful. "The desire for God is written upon the human heart". [Catholic Catechism, Part I].

As a young adult, I took to wearing my gold crucifix under my shirt. After I married a Christian, I pretended to my family that I was not going to church. when family came over, I hid my Bible upstairs. Shall we deny this essential part of ourselves?

Jesus in this Scripture teaches us not to show off as Christians, when there is all show and no heartfelt faith. He does not teach us to hide in fear as Christians.

A dear friend used to admonish me, "God wants you to be yourself." On this Ash Wednesday, how far will you go to become a Visible Christian?

[ Related Posts: The Invisible Catholic, March 9, 2011; Is Christmas Illegal, December 21, 2011; A Life Divided, February 3, 2012].

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Heal Me

2012-02-19T14:18:00.000-08:00

" When Jesus again entered Capernaum, . . .so many gathered that there was no room left, . . .and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, 'Son, your sins are forgiven.' Some of the teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, 'Why does this fellow talk like that? He's blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?' Jesus said to them, 'Why are you thinking these things? Which is easier to say: to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven', or to say,' Get up, take your mat and walk?' But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.' He said to the paralytic, 'I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.' He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone. They said, 'We have never seen anything like this.' " [Mark 2: 1-12].

This parable is another one of the many instances which the scribes and teachers of the law attempt to trap Jesus into blasephemy. The scribes see four men bring a paralyzed man to Jesus for forgiveness. The scribes are aghast, thinking to themselves, 'But only God can forgive out sins!'

Jesus reads their minds. He says to them, essentially, 'You think I cannot forgive sins? I can do more than that! I can heal you!'

I remember being confused about this myself. I grew up in a home with no faith. We attended church but this was only because this was the Right Thing to Do. No one taught me to pray. If my family could not figure things out by solely human effort, we were done. There was no other avenue for hope.

And yet, I sorely wanted to believe what I heard in church, that there is a God and that Jesus loves us. I did not pray much. I felt foolish and self-conscious. But I had a basic longing for a Higher Force, and for a gentle, prophet here on earth, who was Jesus God's son.

Life was difficult for me. Every family relationship that I had was dysfunctional. In those rare times as a child, when I did try to reach out in prayer, I talked only to God. I figured, He was "the boss", kind of like the Chairman of the Board, so to speak, of the Holy Trinity!

I thought I had everything together for the most part. I earned top grades in school, left for college, graduated with honors, went to graduate school. After grad school, I met and married my husband. I even became a mother.

Then my world spun out of control. My father died abruptly. My mother came to live near me and I had to find the strength to care for this frail woman, with whom I had such a complicated relationship. My best friend died, a young mother of two. My mother-in-law died. My father-in-law's health seriously declined.

All the pain of my past came back. I wondered what I had left to hold onto? What was even any good any longer?

I had been attending church with my husband and son but I had never found the courage to convert. I found myself longing to talk to someone at the church about my faith. Ultimately, I decided to convert.

I was such a mess at that time. I was paralyzed with fear. Everything I had known was gone: my family members, my best friend. My life as I had known it was gone. The only thing left to embrace was the pain.

I thought that by converting, I would simply become closer to God and strengthen my faith. I left Jesus totally out of the equation1 I was not thinking particularly of healing. Like the paralytic, I had shown faith by reaching out to God. I had no idea that I had only to ask!

In one discussion during my conversion, I asked, "Who heals us , God or Jesus?" My mentor looked startled that I did not know this. He said, "Both!"

In the ensuing days, I kept "hearing": "Only say the word and I shall be healed!" I ran to my mentor at the church and asked him, What is this? He said, "This is Jesus, calling to you! This is the call to the Eucharist."

I knew I had to say yes. But there was so much pain, and I also knew that I was defying my family's World Order. They said that the Humans were in charge. I wanted, I needed to believe otherwise.

I was reeling on the day that my best friend died. I decided that it was time to receive the Eucharist. I went to Mass at dawn, in the darkness, to practice receiving Communion, with a tiny congregation, almost alone. I imagined all the wise Catholics in my life-- my mother-in-law, my best friend, my Nana, my cousin-- carrying me up the aisle to Jesus. I could feel their presence.

I realized in that moment that in order to heal, you must ask! But you also need others in the community to carry you.

I was able to go up to receive the Eucharist at my best friend's funeral. Then, the next Mass or so, I sort of fell apart. I got massive "stage fright". A mentor said to me, "We have gotten you from crawling to walking. C'mon, you can do this!" With my husband and my son surrounding me, I was able to resume receiving the Eucharist at each Mass.

I have heard others say about me, "Your faith has saved you." It is true. Unlike the paralytic, I am not instantly cured, but I am healing, a little more each day, with prayers to God, with Jesus' loving presence and with the strong arms of those who help me along.

What would you do-- running, crawling, being carried aloft, breaking through a roof, shouting, climbing a tree, praying deep from the heart --- to get to Jesus? How would you ask for healing?

[Related post: The Touch of Love, February 11, 2012].
(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Love Is . . .Courage

2012-02-15T09:12:00.000-08:00

"I want to fly!" [Tuskegee Airman C. Nappier, as a young boy].

In the United States, February is Black History Month. This is a month-long celebration of black Americans, who made an indelible contribution to this country. In the month of February, we commemorate the strength of African Americans, who for over 200 years in America, never had an accurate recorded history.

I was talking to my young son recently, after the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day holiday. He asked me, "Mommy, after all that Martin Luther King did for this country, is there still racism?" I said, "Sadly, yes." He replied softly, " Then I want you to go on your blog and tell the world about this!"

In his writings entitled "Strength To Love" in 1963, Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers."

I had the opportunity this month to attend a talk by one of the surviving Tuskegee Airmen, that elite, all African American flying team, which ran cover missions for Allied bombers during World War II. My son had heard of them in school. I said, "They were at first told that they could not fly because they were black." My son said, very quietly, "That's the same thing they did to Amelia Earhardt."

This talk was held in a town meeting room. The room was filled beyond capacity, standing room only. The audience was black and white, young and old. A group of kids was bused in from the city to hear this man talk, because he is living history.

His name is Connie Nappier --and his account was riveting. He remembers that when he was a tiny boy, he was walking hand in hand with his father. He looked up at the sky and saw a plane. He exclaimed, "I want to fly!" This drive to conquer the skies never left him.

At that time, blacks were considered physically and intellectually inferior, as well as cowardly. Numerous bogus studies had "proved" this. It took a lawsuit against the War Department in 1941 to force the issue of allowing blacks into the Air Force.

Meanwhile, in Europe, Hitler was strengthening his might and over-running entire countries. Young Connie Nappier had many Jewish friends in high school. His school was at least 70% Jewish students. He said to himself, "What that man [Hitler] is doing is crazy! What the Air Force is doing to bar blacks from service is just as crazy!"

After the 1941 lawsuit, The Tuskegee Experiment was born. It was entirely run by black trainer pilots and staff. Mr. Nappier said that the experiment was "designed to fail".

First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt visited Tuskegee in 1941. Despite desperate pleas from her body guards, she insisted on taking a test flight with a black instructor pilot, one of those men believed by definition to be unfit to fly. She overrode her security detail and went for the test flight. She left the Tuskegee campus, determined to convince the President to support the Experiment.

Shortly after, the Tuskegee Institute was born. Many barriers to entry existed. Applicants needed at least a high school degree and ideally some college, at a time when education for blacks was restricted or unavailable. Mr. Nappier tells the story of taking and passing the entrance exam, only to be told that he had failed. He went back to the Captain at the recruitment center to protest. Mr. Nappier recited the exam line by line from memory to the Captain. Finally, he was allowed to re-take the test. And he passed.

In flight school, the Airmen taught themselves dog-fighting. No one trained them in this! They painted the tails of their aircraft brilliant red, to signal to friend and foe alike, 'We have arrived!' Before the Tuskegee Airmen began to fly cover missions for WWII bombers, 30-40% of U.S. bombers were lost in crashes. Each crash meant the loss of 10-12 men. Once the Tuskegee Airmen began their missions, bombing pilots began to routinely request cover from them.

Last month, reknowned film maker Stephen Spielberg released his new movie, "Red Tail" about the Tuskegee Airmen. He requested funding from many film studios, all of whom turned him down. He decided to finance the making of this picture himself. The man who could get funding to make the movie "E.T.", and a movie about a horse in WWI, "War Horse", could not get funding for "Red Tail"?!

Which leaves me with the ultimate question? WHY did Mr. Nappier and his classmates argue so forcefully to be admitted to the Air Force? Why did these men take the risk to teach themselves dogfighting, and to engage in dangerous cover missions against a determined and cruel enemy, so far from home?

I say that their determination was fueled by the power of Love! Each of these men knew that the only powerful response to hate is to love and to love fiercely. They chose to put their lives on the line for this, and for their fellow Jewish men and women in Europe who were being annihilated by Hitler.

Love is not only refusing to accept what is wrong. Love is taking brave action against all that is hateful and evil in the world!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

The Touch of Love

2012-02-11T18:53:00.000-08:00

" A man with leprosy came to Jesus and begged him on his knees, 'If you are willing, you can make me clean.' Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing', he said, 'Be clean!' Immediately, the leprosy left him and he was cured. " [Mark 1: 40-42].

During Biblical times, leprosy was a dreaded and terrifying disease. Any person with a rash was required to see a priest, who would examine his skin. If the person was declared by the priest to be "unclean" with leprosy, he had to "wear torn clothes, let his hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of his face, and cry out, 'Unclean, unclean', . . . .and he must live alone outside the camp." [Leviticus 13:45-46]. Often a person with leprosy would be bullied and physically attacked, in order to drive him away from the community.

It is a desperate and hopeless feeling to be an outcast. I grew up in a family that was dysfunctional and hard-hearted. Not one of my family relationships was healthy and loving. No one hugged me or told me that they loved me.

I took to hiding in my room, but my room had no locks on the door; and I would get in trouble for isolating myself there.

I would go outside into the neighborhood, but the children would taunt me, calling me names until I cried. Sometimes I would knock on a little girl's door, hoping that she would let me in or come out and play, but she would tell me no, and shut the door. Inside the house, I would hear the laughter of other children.

I learned to walk around silently, so that no one would notice me. In school, I would speak only if the teacher called on me by name. I shut down my emotions; anger or tears would only get me more unwanted notice. By age ten, I took a vow of silence. I began to have trouble eating and sleeping.

I kept myself from others, initially, in order to keep myself safe. Gradually, I began to keep myself from others because I saw myself as somehow fractured and debilitated. I did not seem to fit in anywhere. Eventually, I found myself asking, Did I-- could I--ever belong to anyone or anything?

I was raised in a home that did not believe in God or in the healing power of Jesus. I was raised in a home that worshipped only human endeavor. As a young adult, I used to think that maybe the problem was, I was unloveable. In other words, I blamed myself.

Therefore, I used to believe that I had to heal myself. I have tried so many paths to healing. I have taken up yoga. I have modified my diet to include home- made granola, yogurt, fresh salads, more fruit. I have embarked on regimens that included walking 2-3 miles per day in the fresh air. I have taken up knitting. I have listened daily to uplifting music. I have lighted scented candles every evening. I have written in my journal every day.

All of these practices have the capacity to lift our spirits, to make us more healthy, to help us to understand ourselves better.

But it is Jesus, and His infinite capacity for compassion, who is the truest path to healing and to peace! Jesus' willingness to actually touch the leper is daring. Thrilling. Supremely loving. Was He crazy? Or was He just deeply committed to a radical kind of love?

I am learning that, like the Untouchable in this Scripture, I am not going to begin to be healed, unless I ASK. Who is the braver one in this story, Jesus, for touching the leper? Or the leper, for approaching Jesus and asking for healing?

Jesus heals the leper merely by touching him! I still marvel at the incredible power that is released from a loving touch. Every time someone says my name, or hugs me, I start to cry, because these are signs of the love that I have always longed for.

I reveal my wounds, not to invite pity, nor to demand attention. I do not desire anyone's condecension for my plight. Neither do I wish to be place upon a pedestal, to be told that it is an honor to know me. I am a human being, striving to survive my wounds. We all have our wounds.

No, I show my wounds, only to reveal the awesome power of Jesus' capacity to heal us! Nothing I have ever tried on my own has healed me in the way that the power of love has!
We can be the ambassadors for Jesus' love, by the way in which we treat others. We can speak gently to a child, rather than speaking with impatience or anger. We can hug our friends and neighbors. We can extend a greeting to those who are lost, lonely, isolated from the community.

A gentle touch, a kind word of encouragement, a peaceful acceptance of others--- these are the truest measures of Love! In following Jesus in these attributes, may my Love heal all!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Blog News!

2012-02-08T13:50:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends:

Periodically, I will update you on the status of this blog. Please review my entry entitled "My Year in Words", for a meditation on the first year of writing in this space.

I have upgraded some features on the blog recently, as you may have noticed:

First, I have added an icon on the top right, along the "tool bar", that allows you to follow the postings via e-mail.

Also, I have added an icon on the top right, along the "tool bar", that allows you to subscribe to this blog.

Finally, I have added a link to Bible Gateway, so that you can pursue further study of the referenced Scriptures, without having to exit the blog to conduct a separate search.

I have also reformatted the design to be more compatible for access to the blog from a smart phone. (I notice that this does not work well with the Blackberry device, but it seems to provide a cleaner design for the iPhone.)

Possible future features:

* an app that is smart phone friendly
* a drop down field for my readers to leave Prayer Requests

If you would like to keep abreast of the number of countries accessing this space, please refer to the text under "About Me."

Blessings,

The Spiritual Devotional

Love Is . . . Truth

2012-02-08T09:06:00.000-08:00

" Everybody passionately seeks to be well-adjusted. We must, of course, be well-adjusted if we are to avoid neurotic and schizophrenic personalities, but there are some things in our world to which men of goodwill must be maladjusted. I confess that I never intend to become adjusted to the evils. . . and to the crippling effect of discrimination, to the moral degeneracy of religious bigotry and. . . to economic conditions that deprive men of work and food, and to the insanities of militarism and the self-defeating effects of physical violence. Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted." [Martin Luther King, Jr. in his Strength To Love, 1963].

In the United States, February is Black History Month. This is a month-long celebration of black Americans, who made an indelible contribution to this country. In the month of February, we commemorate the strength of African Americans, who for over 200 years in America, never had a recorded history.

Lately, I have been reading some of the writings of Martin Luther King, Jr. The quotation above was written in 1963, almost 50 years ago, and yet these words still ring true today.

I have written before about how, when I was a child, I was taunted and bullied. A family member would call me "ugly", every day, and no one ever succeeded in stopping him. This taunting went on--- even when I went outside in the neighborhood, or even when I hid in my room. There was no escape.

The response from all the adults in my life? "You are too sensitive", they would say. So, of course, the taunting never stopped. The verbal abuse was allowed to continue, and even to flourish, because I was told, in essence, that it was "my fault" for being too sensitive. Sometimes, the verbal abuse escalated to physical abuse.

It got to the point that I did not know the Truth about myself. Even today, if someone insists that I am pretty, I run to the mirror, trying to discern what they could possibly be talking about. This personal distortion sets off a form of anxiety, because the compliment may come from a person who would never lie to me; and yet, I do not believe that they are telling me the Truth.

It got to the point as a child that I no longer felt safe with my family. If this kind of verbal and even physical assault could be allowed to continue in my home, then whom could I trust and where in the world would I be safe? I began to shut down, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I lived in fear.

It got to the point that I hated my sensitivity, that exquisite emotion that only seemed to get me in trouble. My self-confidence and self-esteem plummeted. I wondered what was wrong with me?

In those years, I was not receiving Love. I was receiving Hate. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Hatred and bitterness can never cure the disease of fear; only love can do that. Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it."

These days, I am working on learning not to accept what was said about me. I am telling myself that these were lies! I am learning not to blame myself for the hate, not to fall into the trap of calling myself "too sensitive". Recently, I wrote a poem that begins, "I am a deep emotion, suspended on a prayer, in a world suffused with meaning." I have begun to celebrate these things about myself!

Hate ignores human feelings. Hate abhors prayer, or anything remotely connected to the Holy One. Hate rends the sacred into the worthless, the meaningless. Hate mocks and devalues life.

Love, on the other hand, is Truth! If we are to love, we must discern the Truth about the ugly forces that are gaining ground in our world. We must not pretend that the status quo is either normal or acceptable.

And then, we must battle those dark forces. As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "I never intend to become adjusted to the evils,. . . to moral degeneracy, . . . to insanities,. . . to physical violence."

Now, I know the Truth! I was never "too sensitive"! I was simply feeling deeply the pain of Hate. Crying out against Hate is never the wrong response. That pain in the face of Hate is the Truth! And the Truth longs for Love!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Boast in the Lord

2012-02-04T08:54:00.000-08:00

" When I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel! If I preach voluntarily, I have a great reward; if not voluntarily, I am simply discharging the trust committed to me. What then, is my reward? Just this: that in preaching the gospel, I may offer it free of charge, and so not make use of my rights [of monetary recompense] in preaching it. To the weak, I became weak, to win over the weak. I have become all things to all people, so that by all possible means, I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings." [1 Corinthians 9: 16-23].

Like St. Paul in this Scripture, I cannot boast. Everything I have, I have received as a free gift from God. Every breath is from God, my very life is from God. My deep, dark eyes and the crinkles around my eyes when I laugh, are from God. My heart loves my dear ones on earth; but in the end, my heart belongs to God.

My literary abilities are from God. Yet I have honed them over many years of hardship, holed away in my childhood room, hiding from humanity. I lavished my attention on my schoowork, so that I could understand the ways of the world.

When my homework was done, I read every book I could lay my hands on. And when I had read every book at hand, I read the dictionary, beginning with the letter 'A'.

I used to be taunted by family and friends. They would say that I was "too smart". My intelligence came from God. I never understood why anyone would torment me for something that is a gift from God. Were they taunting God?

Now I speak the gospel in this space. I speak the Truth. I am compelled to speak the Truth, as a counterbalance to all the lies that were told about me. I was told that there is no God, or that if you had any talent at all, you did not need God. These are lies.

I was told that I am ugly, and a failure. I pray that these are lies, because God makes no mistakes. He made me the way I am. I may not be beautiful in an earthly sense, or successful the way we humans measure it. He made me the way I am on purpose. He loves me even though I am so very human and imperfect.

I do not charge anything for the meditations in this space. God is for everyone. His Word is free, to all who would listen.

And yet, writing in this space is not a burden. I do not require any earthly recompense. If I were paid as much as a million dollars for my writing, I would give it all away. Why? In receiving God's love and grace, I have already reaped untold riches. Not in any material sense, but in the sacred way in which I have developed a personal relationship with God. He encourages me and strengthens me in my daily walk.

St. Paul declares that he is all things to all people, so that he may save some. I am not so chameleon-like, nor so seemingly opportunistic. But as a child, I made myself Nothing so that no enemy could vanquish me. Being Nothing, I became universal. I belonged to no one and everyone.

At times, I have been so alone that I have counted no one as a friend. I have stared death in the face many times, and yet I lived. I have narrowly escaped trees falling on me, I have nearly drowned, I have struggled under a violent assault. I have had only a few dollars left to my name before I was paid again. I have eaten humbly of rice and beans for dinner.

But I have been comfortable in life, yet at the same time miserable. I have lived in a household of plenty yet, felt that I was in danger of losing my soul.

I have been weak, as you have been. But God sees my weakness and He lifts me up, He consoles the broken-hearted. He has made me strong, strong enough to break my silence and tell my story.

I desire only for the Holy Spirit to infuse my words with comfort and hope. I serve others here, I do not serve myself. Some have said to me that I will become famous, sought the world over. In truth, I detest the thought. I am only the Medium, I do not want to be the Message. I speak only as a lone voice, crying out. But I do not want my name to be known.

It is the Word that I want to be known. If you find God from entering this meditational space, then I have obeyed my calling, I have shared my holy blessings.

Love to all, The Spiritual Devotional

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

A Life Divided

2012-02-03T09:26:00.000-08:00

" I would like you to be free from concern. An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord's affairs-- how he can please the Lord. But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world-- how he can please his wife-- and his interests are divided. I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way, in undivided devotion to the Lord." [1 Corinthians 7: 32-35].

This Scripture from St. Paul speaks to a time when early Christians thought that Judgment Day was imminent. They believed that Christ's Second Coming was going to happen soon --and that they had better be prepared. St. Paul urges his followers to be ready, by spending more time devoted to God.

This is a classic Christian dilemma: how to be in this world, but not "of this world"? We do live firmly rooted here on earth, and, being human, we are buffeted in all directions. We try to make a living, to raise our children, gather around for meals, embrace (or shun) the constant barrage of media, steal away some time for rest --and yet still, we must find time for God. It is a divided time for us. This Scripture asks, 'What divides you from God?'

Unfortunately, this is not the only division that poses a challenge for us. Author Charles Murray in his new book, "Coming Apart" talks about how there is a widening cultural divide in America, between the elite and the working class.

Murray talks in his book about cultural divisions between working class whites and upper middle class whites, such as the widening divergence of what these distinct classes choose to watch on television, to eat for breakfast, or even where they choose to travel on vacation.

But to me, the most disturbing data in his book come from the General Social Survey, which shows in recent decades that marriage is down 36%, and that secularism (pointing to those who "profess no religion, or attend a worship service no more that once a year") has increased 21%. Frankly,these data scare me because if we do not have intimate human connections, and our deep faith, what do we have?

So, instead of asking, like Charles Murray, what divides us, I would like to ask, "What unites us?"

I am not a sociologist nor a political scientist nor an anthropologist. I can only speak to my own experiences. I can only speak to what has saved me.

I can say that when I was growing up, life was rough for me. I could not count on being fed consistently, being warm enough, or feeling safe. No one hugged me or said that they loved me. I grew to distrust people. Humanity did not save me. We stopped going to church when I was 14. I thought people got faith by going to church, so I was afraid that I had lost my faith. My faith could not save me, because I thought it was gone.

When I left home at age 18 to attend university, I found the saving grace of an education. I realized that I was given gifts, and I was given the opportunity to exercise them. Education saved me. Education, and knowledge of our incredible world, can save us, and unite us.

After I graduated from university and graduate school, I lived on my own in a big city. I threw myself into my work. I thought that my work would save me. But I ended up exhausted and lonely. My education could help me understand my world, but work alone was not enough to save me.

It was then that I met the man who would become my husband. I truly believe that God sent him to rescue me. I learned the saving power of Love. If someone truly loves you, then you have the courage to love others. We must learn to trust getting married again. Committed Love unites us.

My husband and I became parents. My son is everything to me. All children are precious to me. Every time I am out in town or in church, and I see a baby, I smile at the baby and at the parents. The smile for the baby is one of delight. The smile for the parents is a "knowing", the common bond of joy and hope for the future. Our children unite us.

Not too long ago, in a space of two years, I lost my father, my best friend, my mother-in-law and my mother. No, I refuse to say that our sadness unites us! I would rather say that our faith unites us. I thought my faith was gone, but kindly Christians showed me that my faith, although dormant, was still very much alive.

I have been cold and hungry. I have almost died many times. I have been alone and in despair. I have asked myself What is this life all about? I have had to rebuild my life over several times. Each time, I have asked myself, "What do I have to hold onto?" No, it is not money or possessions. My work and gifts alone cannot save me, although they do give me purpose.

I have learned that all we really have is God -- and each other. If we do not have those, we have lost our souls. We have lost everything.

God, You have saved me through your Love. My faith in You saves me. My love for You and for others is my Salvation.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

A Healing Spirit

2012-01-29T12:54:00.000-08:00

" On the sabbath, Jesus entered the synagogue and taught. In their synagogue was a man with an unclean spirit; he cried out, 'What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who You are, the Holy One of God!' Jesus rebuked him and said, ' Quiet! Come out of him!' The unclean spirit convulsed him and with a loud cry, came out of him. All were amazed and asked one another, 'What is this? A new teaching with authority. He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.' [Mark 1: 21-27].

A faith-filled man loses his dear wife and he struggles valiantly to overcome his despair, and to raise their children alone. A young family loses a child tragically to an accidental death; they battle deep doubts about where God is in their lives. A woman is still haunted from the abuses that she suffered in her youth; she finds herself angry and isolated.

My dear mother-in-law used to say that "We all have our crosses to bear." I always resisted what she was saying in that expression. I did not want to admit the sins, the pain or the suffering in this world. I did not want to witness these, even in anyone else. They reminded me of my own pain-- a deep, searing flight away from a past that I could not face. I was afraid of the dark spirits inside me, that would surely lead me directly to the sins of anger, doubt, despair, fear, and endless self -condemnation. And so, I pushed those dark spirits deep down inside.

What I was doing with my dark spirits in those days was to bury them. I "pretended" away the self who was a tiny, scared, cold, hungry, angry, physically insecure, spiritually and emotionally deadened, despairing young girl. That little girl lived inside me as I went through high school and college, found my first job and my first apartment, and met my future husband.

After I got engaged, I remember going to visit the priest in my fiance's parish, one day. We were going there to talk about getting married. I was dressed up in heels and hose and a pretty sweater dress that I had made myself. My new engagement ring glinted in the sun. The Rectory garden looked lovely that bright day in April and as we neared the Rectory entrance, I even caught a glimpse of a fluttering butterfly. Things were perfect, no?

No. Because as the years went on, all the dark spirits from my past, which I had neatly buried, merged with all the ensuing dark times: not very long after we got married, the death of my dear mother-in-law; the house we had to sell at a loss in a bad economy, the anxiety about finding jobs in the economic downturn; the difficulty in becoming parents- which was something we never imagined; a misdiagnosis of cancer- which was terrifying; the deaths of both my parents and my best friend. All these trials, occurring one after another, over the many years after we married, began to overlap and accumulate and converge.

By a certain point, after all these set-backs, my life felt out of control. I descended into a kind of despair. I was overwhelmed and confused. My world seemed upside down and backwards. Why was I even here on this earth? How could I have suffered so much? The worst part was that I felt that I was in such a dark place, that I had lost sight of God. I was in danger of turning away from my faith.

A wise mentor told me to find a quiet place; and to meditate and reflect. Honestly? I thought he was a bit crazy. Wasn't this a waste of time? Or maybe, just maybe, I was afraid of what would come out. . . I asked him, 'What am I supposed to DO in that quiet place?' He said, 'See what comes out. You may laugh, you may cry, you may simply sit in the silence.'

What came out was astonishing. Horrible repressed memories came out. Excruciating pain. Total, exuberant joy. Deep sadness. The soothing peace of gratitude.

A year or so after I began my daily meditations, I went on a meditation retreat. There, I asked, 'What am I supposed to DO with all this past pain and sins that come out?" The answer is, 'Recite a mantra, in time with your breath. Seek the presence of the Lord.'

I chose a mantra something like, "Come, Lord." I was seeking the healing presence of Jesus, his words, his authority.

The process was described as when the sediment from a river rises to the surface. You watch it rise and float away. You acknowledge it and let it go. When a particular pain or grievous error of mine
surfaces, I examine and release it.

This sounds peaceful. It is not. Like the man in the Scripture above, I find it a convulsive process. It is cathartic, but very healing. I try not to allow the pain and the sins to cling to me. I give them to Jesus. I ask Him to walk with me.

Seeking Jesus in the quiet can summon the dark spirits from deep within. Only He has the commanding authority to dispel them.

I love the dark, quiet of the chapel now. I know who Jesus is in my life, in my soul now. He is the Holy One of God. I give unto Jesus my tears, my pain, my despair, my hope, my faith, my joy!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Seeking Happiness

2012-01-26T11:35:00.000-08:00

"Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil. . . .He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. [For] who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed." [1 Peter: 8-13].

January is coming to an end. We have made our New Year's Resolutions, and being fully human, we have probably broken our resolutions many times already!

I believe that our New Year's Resolutions are all about seeking happiness. Maybe we decided that if only we could lose those extra pounds, we would be happy. Or maybe we decided that if only we could really stick to an exercise routine, we would be happy; but we punish ourselves if we miss a day at the gym. Or maybe, we ponder, happiness comes in saving a lot of money and becoming rich?

Certainly, these are valid goals, to eat a more healthful diet, to be more active, to become a wiser steward of our finances. But accomplishing these goals will not guarantee happiness. We can grab all the luxuries that life has to offer and still be miserable.

After all, I once told a friend about a man who has a wife, two children, three dogs, two houses and five cars. This friend quipped, "Oh, yeah?! Is he happy yet?" [Umm, no].

Happiness is elusive. We are human, and a gloomy, rainy day, or a rotten day at work, can send our mood plummeting. I believe that happiness is relative, though; it depends far more on gratitude than on a longing for what we lack.

Consider the happiness theory of Abraham Maslow, famous creator of the Hierarchy of Needs pyramid. Before we can truly seek happiness (fulfillment, self-actualization, creativity, acceptance), we all need to meet basic human needs. The most basic of needs, at the very foundation of our happiness pyramid, he labels "Physiological" -- breathing, food, sleep, emotional and physical stability. Next comes "Safety"-- physical safety, resources, health. Next comes, "Love"-- belonging, family, friends. Next comes "Esteem"-- that is, self-confidence, respect, achievement. Only after we have gained all of these elements can we be free to seek happiness.

I have spoken before about my dysfunctional childhood. I would say to you that I sometimes went hungry; I was often cold; or too hot to sleep; I was scared and always on alert; I was not physically safe; my sleep was affected by my lack of safety; my chronic lung condition was neglected, so my breathing was affected; no one ever hugged me or told me that they loved me; I had few friends; I felt worthless. In short, I was miserable.

What does this mean for your life? For one, if you have all these things, food, ability to breathe, physical safety, health, family and friends, some measure of confidence--- then, you are rich indeed.

I was reminded of this recently when I received a prayer request for someone who is a double amputee. This person wanted only a surgical operation that would allow her to sit up in a wheelchair! This is where gratitude comes in! This was God's way of showing me that, despite my past hardships, despite how I struggle even today, I really have nothing to complain about. . . .

When I remember my prayers for this person. I am also able to pray for myself: Thank you, God for every breath, for my food, for my shelter, for my health etc.

Every day, I try to make it my purpose to care for those who have less, who have few or none of
Maslow's basic needs. This brings me back to Matthew 19: 16-21, where Jesus says, "Give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come follow me".

I hear reports of the plight of the poor worldwide and I become sad, almost despondent. I read recently in the New York Times of the chronic food shortage in the country of Congo. In many families, the parents are forced to spread the limited food around on a rotation basis. Some days, some of the children eat, but some do not. And I think, what are we DOING about this? This is not happiness for these families. It is not happiness for me to witness this.

All of this brings me back to the Scripture for today: "Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil. He must seek peace and pursue it." Now, I see fully that happiness does not depend on my appearance (heavy or thin). Happiness does not depend on my becoming fabulously wealthy or famous. It does not depend upon owning bigger, better, more things than anyone else on the planet.

Happiness comes from seeking peace. It comes from speaking (and doing) good, especially for others.
It comes from turning away from evil. It comes from basic things like breathing, eating, feeling safe, feeling a sense of respect for self and others, and belonging to friends and family. It comes from helping others to achieve these as well.

Many of these elements of happiness are FREE! Freely received by us; freely given to others. We do not have to be breathtakingly beautiful or extraordinarily wealthy in order to seek peace, help others, avoid evil, cultivate love, nurture gratitude, value our gifts, or show acceptance of others.

Jesus says, "Come follow me". I pray that in seeking peace, avoiding evil, giving to others, expressing gratitude and finding love, that I will see Jesus --and that I will love life and see good days!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Fishers of Men

2012-01-21T11:57:00.000-08:00

" As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the waters, for they were fishermen. 'Come, follow me', Jesus said, 'and I will make you fishers of men.' At once they left their nets and followed him." [Mark 1: 16-18].

This Scripture is probably one of the most well-known and beloved in the Bible. Jesus' dramatic call, "Come, follow me", is one of the quintessential elements of Christianity.

Jesus' call is the call to be healed, a call to follow the Way, that leads to love, to peace, to a gentle community. I have spoken before in this space about my dysfunctional, upside down family. I have spoken out about the violence against me, the teachings I received against God, against charity to others, against acceptance of others. I was called ugly every day, I was called a failure. I was told, 'You think of yourself first. We do not give to charity.' I was taught to be suspicious of others.

I ended up alone and scared. Even as a child, I knew that my family did not seem to be saying the right things. All that they said contradicted the love and the security that I craved. And so, at age ten, I decided to retreat. I took a vow to stop speaking. I had given up.

Where is Jesus' call in my life now? I would say to you that it is, first, simply hearing others speaking my name! Jesus is in others greeting me with expressions of total delight! You see, in my childhood, it was much better, much safer to be invisible. But when someone actually sees me today, and does not look right through me, it means that I am not invisible. I DO exist and I do matter!

There is a thrill in my heart when someone calls me by name; a feeling of joy, that I think will never go away. It is the thrill that comes from the love we have for one another, which is also the love that comes from Jesus!

Sometimes, I still feel worthless and useless. If I imagine that I hear the call of God upon me, I am tempted to dismiss it, because I think, WHY would God call me?! I am No One, I am a Nobody. This circumstance reminds me of the story of Samuel last week. It did not occur to him that this voice calling out to him could be God. If we are so unassuming that we think we have no value, will we miss the call of God and Jesus in our lives?

I went through this when I received the call to convert. There was an insistent, persistent preoccupation inside, with drawing nearer to God. I kept "hearing" in my head, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" and, "Only say the Word and I shall be healed." It was an odd time for this call to come. I could think of so many other times when this call would have been so much more convenient. But it was there, and it was not going away.

I went to seek advice from a wise mentor. I asked, "Why would God call me? Why would I be called to come closer to Jesus by receiving the Eucharist? I am Nobody. I am only a woman, only a wife and mother. I am nothing special". I thought that, to be called, I had to somehow measure up. The mentor replied, 'Well, the first disciples were only fishermen! -- humble, uneducated, unknown at that time."

This is why, as we are called by Jesus, we need each other. We need to be in community. We can see Jesus best by His reflection in ourselves and in each other. If we cannot speak to one another about the call of Jesus in our lives, we might not recognize Him at all! It is in our prayers for each other, in our love for each other, that we truly recognize Jesus.

It is still painful and difficult for me to reach out. But if I want to expand the reach of Jesus in my life, I must challenge myself to embrace others, from all walks of life. We are called to treat everyone we meet as a son or daughter of God!

We are all called to follow Jesus, yes. But we are also called to be "fishers of men", like Jesus. And so, I have become a Great Collector of People. Today, in my life, there is my house painter who is Russian, my carpenter who is Jamaican, the lady who comes to help me around the house who is Polish, my best girlfriend who is from Eastern Europe, two other best girlfriends who are each part Native American. I treat everyone as family.

There is some risk, and often a great deal of challenge in responding to the call of Jesus. In Mark 1: 19-20, James and his brother John, upon hearing Jesus' call, leave their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and follow Jesus. To follow Jesus, we must leave our comfortable life behind and "get out of the boat".

We may also have to leave our "fathers"-- that is, to leave our past behind, in order to become a follower of Jesus. Even as a young child, I was beginning to realize that my family had a very tortured sense of the world. As young as age six, I found myself wondering, 'What kind if family did I get?'

As I matured, I found that sometimes, I had to choose between my family's ways and Jesus' Way. That was painful. It still is. I had to literally leave my father-- and my mother-- behind, and turn to a new Way. But I did not have to forge my way alone. I had Jesus to follow and emulate.

I also have God, who is always there! God, May I see Your gentle and loving ways in everyone I meet.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

For, we are ALL called to "drop what we are doing" and to follow Christ. Jesus is available to everyone-- even if you are among the humble, everyday folk, such as the fishermen.

Remembering Martin Luther King

2012-01-16T13:52:00.000-08:00

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." --Martin Luther King, in his "I have a Dream" speech, August 28, 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

I was alive when Martin Luther King was shot in Memphis. I still remember that day vividly. I was in grade school then. It happened on April 4, 1968. I was outside on the front lawn, waiting for what seemed like forever, to go to my grandparents' house. We had unusually warm weather for early spring. I was wearing spring clothes that day, something known back then as a "playset", because the shorts and top matched.

I was lying down on the soft grass, closing my eyes and almost falling asleep in the warm sunshine. I had my little transistor radio with me (I am "dating" myself here! We had no Podcasts back then, not even a Sony Walkman). Suddenly over the radio came a report that Martin Luther King had been shot in Memphis. I sat straight up as I heard the news. I tried to understand what it meant.

We finally got in the car and went to my grandmother's house. The television was on. I stood stock still in front of the screen. The announcers were saying that Mr. King spoke out for the blacks. Some were hinting that the blacks would riot in the streets, or that we would have another civil war in this country over his death. That scared me.

I was sad that grown ups were saying this about a man who tried to help his people. I was confused over why everyone seemed so fearful of what he had been saying.

I had a family member who called people, with different skin color or ethnicities, all kinds of nasty names. My sibling and I would laugh at these names, the names that seemed so outrageous. Surely he was not serious? Surely he was only mocking about how a bigot would sound? This relative would then turn to us and say, "WHY are you laughing? I am deadly serious!" We would fall silent. Maybe this relative DID mean it. . . .

As I got a little older, I began to more fully understand the impact of Martin Luther King. I was a only a little Anglo girl, growing up in the white suburbs. But I had been bullied for years-- called names for being a girl with a smart brain; called "Four Eyes" for needing to wear glasses; tormented for needing to wear braces to correct my misaligned teeth. I was called traitor because my father was from a different country. I was told, "Go back where you came from! We don't want you here!" I was called mean names for the shape of my nose.

I would get hurt and angry over this bullying. I shed bitter tears over the unfairness of it all. I could not help that my intelligence was put inside a girl's body. Nor could I help the shape of my nose, the country of my father, the need for braces or glasses.

At a fairly young age, I figured out that if people could be so hateful to a little white girl, how must it feel to be a person of color in America? And what did this say about the grown-ups? Were we not supposed to treat all of each other as brothers and sisters of God?

Martin Luther King has become one of my heroes, because he spoke the Truth. He said that the United States of America had undergone a civil war, but blacks in our country were still not free.

I have a dear friend who is like a mother to me. She was active in the civil rights movement at the time. She tells me that at the time that Martin Luther King was speaking out, many other clergy were trying to silence him. Yes, clergy were telling him not to speak the Truth!

Even as a child, I knew the Truth about bigotry. Today, I tell my son stories about the civil rights movement. When he says things to me like, "Mommy, it's okay to be different!", I cry real tears, but they are tears of joy. He knows the Truth. He speaks it. He lives it.

Today he asked me, at what time did Martin Luther King die? When I asked why, he said, "Because I want to hold a minute of silence for Martin Luther King then." I did not know the answer, so we looked it up on Google.

The site that came up was Wikipedia. When we opened the site, the entire article about Martin Luther King was replaced by text that said, "We don't care, we don't care. we don't care.... etc." Filling the whole page. Someone had gone in and edited the article to become an article of Hate.

Very quickly, someone at Wikipedia wiped out those words. Then they set to the task of restoring the original article.

I cried when I saw how someone had defaced the piece on Martin Luther King. My son saw my tears, but I did not care! He needs to see those tears. He hugged me and tried to console me.

I told him, my voice shaking, "They murdered him because he dared to speak the Truth! I will never stop speaking the Truth! And you must grow up to speak the Truth too!"

It is so sad to me that, on the day in which we honor Martin Luther King, racism still lives. King had a dream that his four little children would one day be judged only for their character and not the color of their skin.

I am still waiting for that day. I had hoped that by the time of my son's generation, we would know better, understand better, and love more.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Here I am, Lord!

2012-01-15T13:52:00.000-08:00

" The boy Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, near the ark of God. Then the Lord called Samuel. Samuel answered, 'Here I am.' And he ran to Eli and said, 'Here I am, you called me.' But Eli said, 'I did not call you; go back and lie down.' So he went and lay down. Again the Lord called, 'Samuel!' And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, 'Here I am; you called me.' 'My son,' said Eli, 'I did not call; go back and lie down.' Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord: The word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel a third time, and Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, 'Here I am; you called me.'  Then Eli realized that the Lord was calling the boy. So Eli told Samuel, 'Go to sleep and if you are called, reply, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.' ' When Samuel went to sleep in his place, the Lord came and revealed his presence, calling out as before, 'Samuel, Samuel.' Samuel answered, 'Speak, for your servant is listening.' [1 Samuel 3: 1-11].

This Scripture is from the Old Testament, from before the time of Jesus. Eli was a high priest who kept watch in the innermost room of the temple, where the ark of God was safeguarded. Samuel was dedicated to the service of God by his mother, Hannah. Eli trained Samuel in the ways of the Lord.

It always amazes me how close to God that our children are. I remember when my son was very young, perhaps only age six or so. He had just begun his formal religious instruction at our church. He had learned about how God is very powerful and all present. One day, my son asked, "Where is God?' I said, "He is everywhere, but you cannot see Him."

My son wanted to know, "Does God have eyes to see me?" I said, no, but He is all seeing.

So my son went into another room and shouted out to me, "Can God see me now?!" I said, yes. He was amazed. Then he went to the pantry that has only one window. He asked," Can He see me now?" I said, yes. Then he went into the powder room, with no window and asked, "Can He see me now?" I said, yes! My son wanted to know, if he hid in the deepest corner of his closet, could God see Him? I said, yes!

We may object that we are too young to see God. I have found it to be the opposite. God is available to all of us. Many years ago now, I was attending church faithfully, but I had not challenged myself to find a church and actually join as a parishioner--not only to commit myself to attending Mass, but also to receiving Communion as a full member of a faith community.

It was my son who came to me, concerned! My dear boy was worried about my soul! He said, "Mommy, why don't you go up with us for Communion?" I dithered and waffled. "Well", I said "I was not born into this denomination; I don't want to go back to the church of my original denomination, in which I was raised; and even if I did that I would have to attend church alone because you and Daddy go to this church; maybe someday I will figure all this out. . . ." My son was not buying this. Week after week, he persisted with his questions.

God can come to us in any form. Sometimes, God calls our children first! God sent my son, to gently nudge me to come nearer to Him. How could I say no to my own son? Here was my son who had called me, and my own son who, by sharing his religious lessons, was helping me to learn about God!

God waits for us to be ready to respond.  Samuel, at the time of this story, did not yet know the Lord. The Lord had not yet revealed Himself to him. Perhaps the Lord did not feel that Samuel was ready.

Before my young son spoke to me repeatedly about participating in the Eucharist, I had thought that I was doing the best that I could with my faith. I thought that attending Mass weekly, with him and my husband, was "good enough". I suppose I was not ready to take the next step in my faith.

When my son began speaking to me regularly about receiving Communion, I did not recognize that this was really God calling me! Then, my life fell apart. My father died abruptly. He was gone in minutes, before the ambulance even came. It fell to me as the daughter to care for my elderly mother. Just as I took her on, my best friend was dying from cancer, a virulent form of the disease. She had fought bravely for years.  She was a young wife and mother. I was devastated. I was angry, this was not fair!

I was totally upside down and backwards. I had lost my "compass". Often I did not even know what day it was. I thought God was "gone". Some wise soul gave me advice: "God is NOT gone. You must meditate and pray. Do not be afraid of the tears."

As soon as I began to pray on a regular basis, God came back into my life. But I did not understand what He was saying. I kept "hearing" the words "Only say the Word and I shall be healed." This is the call to Communion. I kept hearing, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life". This is Jesus' call to follow Him! I kept trying to reject this nagging conviction that I needed to finally choose a church and receive Communion again.

God persisted with me. But it was not a shout or a cacophony of noise. God comes to us in the quiet, and only if we are listening. It can be a poignant feeling. A whisper. A gorgeous moment in nature. He appeals to our senses. He appeals to us in the way we are most susceptible to noticing.  He can appeal to you night and day, but you must recognize Him for who He is.

What I felt was such despair, that I was necessarily drawn to the only One much wiser, much gentler, much more merciful that anyone on earth. I needed that in my life then. I still do. I need the infinite, the unconditional love of the Holy One.

I also needed the assistance of my son, of my pastor, of my Bible teacher, of my family, to recognize God.  Samuel could not recognize God alone.  We cannot recognize God alone.

We recognize God every time we attend Mass with our fellow Christians; every time we receive the Eucharist; every time we pray for someone; or with someone. And we have only to answer His call!

Every day now, I pray in the morning. It is a wonderful, peaceful way to begin the day. The first thing I say to God is, "Here I am, Lord! Let me do what You will!" And now I understand that I can never predict how or when He will call me!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

A Child's Hunger

2012-01-13T10:20:00.000-08:00

" Now a man came up to Jesus and asked, 'Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life' Jesus replied, ' There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, obey the commandments.'
'All of these I have kept,' the young man said. 'What do I still lack?' Jesus answered, 'If you want to be perfect, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me.' [Matthew 19: 16-21].

January is National Poverty Awareness Month.

In America, that is somewhat ironic, isn't it? January is the month when we run out to all the post-Christmas sales, and buy up everything we did not get for Christmas. As if there were not enough gifts under the tree already. . . . January is also the month when the nation goes on a diet, because of all the excessive eating we did from Thanksgiving until New Year's. January is the month when stores have sales on storage containers, so we can stash all our stuff in perfect plastic containers.

Do we even think of those who cannot put together dinner for themselves and the kids every night? Or of those who don't have twenty sweaters; in fact, they do not have even one?

When I was a child, we had a nice home and there was always food to eat. Nevertheless, at mealtime, I was given a plate of food-- and if I did not eat it, nothing else was given to me. For breakfast, it was oatmeal in the winter and cold cereal in the summer. The oatmeal tasted nasty to me, like some sort of cruel, thick paste with grit in it. My dad would tell me wonderful stories about Goldilocks and the three bears to get me to eat my oatmeal. I would take a few bites and gag.

I became obsessed with what I would be offered for dinner. As soon as I got up in the morning, at first light, I would ask my mother what was for dinner? What I really wanted to know is whether I would be able to eat that night. She would get irritated at me and tell me to stop asking.

Once, after Thanksgiving, I was at a friend's house. She offered me some holiday left-overs. I feasted on cold turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce and coconut custard pie. These foods tasted like the best things I had ever eaten. Then I went home because I heard my mother calling me for lunch. She was furious with me for having eaten and she sent me to my room. I was recently telling a wise woman in my life this story and she said, 'She punished you for being hungry.'

I used to have frequent headaches when I was a child. I could not focus in school. I was always cold. I was always exhausted. I was told, 'You cannot be cold. Why are you always so tired? What's wrong with you?' All of these symptoms are caused by hunger. My hunger was my apparently my "fault".

I took to hoarding Halloween candy in a big shopping bag in my room. The bag was the kind you get at a fancy department store. One July, my mother found my stash hidden under the the upholstered chair in my room. The chocolate had turned white and the hard candies were sticky and gooey. She became angry. 'WHY are you keeping this?!", she said. Then she threw my food safety net away.

Today, I still get anxious if my shelves are getting bare, or if my shopping list is too long. I still eat half my dinner sometimes, and save the rest for lunch the next day.

After my husband and I got married, a stray cat who came to our door and never left. When I fed her, she would always leave some food in her bowl. Then, she would ceremonially scrape her paw around the bowl after she ate. She was "burying" her food for another time. When I put away some of my meal for another time, my husband says to me, "Stop burying your food!"

My point is, the fear of hunger never goes away, even if you are an adult, able to provide enough food for yourself. You can lift the child out of hunger but you cannot take the hunger out of the child. The scars are life-long.The fear of wondering where your next meal is coming from is always there.

Today, I feed everyone. I make a double batch of brownies and send some over to the neighbor who lost his wife. I pounce on a "Buy- One-Get-One Free" Special at the market and donate the extra one to someone in need. If I can get this special PLUS a discount coupon, my son and I do high-fives! Recently, I hosted an Open House at my home. I put a pot of coffee on, baked some cookies and opened my door. I told everyone, please do not bring me anything: no flowers, no scented candles, no candy. Just bring an item for the town food pantry. My husband and I ended up bringing over 5 bags of food to the town pantry. The volunteers at the pantry were thrilled.

You may say, 'Why should I feed others? They need to help themselves.' But, I say, when you feed others, you are feeding a child hope.

Perhaps this January, you are trying yet again to be Perfect: to lose weight, to save money, to get organized. These are all worthy goals.

But to be truly perfect, in God's eyes, you must give to the poor. Then you will truly have treasure in Heaven.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

The Magi

2012-01-09T19:03:00.000-08:00

" After Jesus was born in Bethlehem, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, 'Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.' When King Herod heard this, he was disturbed. . . He called together all the chief priests and scribes and asked them where the Christ was to be born, 'In Bethlehem', they replied, 'for this is what the prophet has written.' Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, 'Go and make careful search for the child. A soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.'

The Magi went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. They saw the child with his mother Mary and they bowed down and worshipped him. They presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream: 'Get up', he said, 'take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.' "[ Matthew 2: 1-13].

January 8 is Epiphany, or Three Kings Day. It is the day when we celebrate the arrival of the Magi at the place where Jesus was born. It is also the day in the Christian calendar when the Christmas season officially ends.

I think that every Christian child must know this story. We think of the Kings bearing gifts and we realize that, in its simplest sense, this is a story that explains why we give gifts at Christmas time.

But it is a story about so much more than that. It is a story of secular kings worshipping a tiny baby lying in a manger. It is a story of the exalted royalty of this earth paying homage to a tiny, but divine infant resting in the humblest of environments. This contrast is a foretelling of Jesus' lesson of "The humble shall be exalted, and the exalted shall be humbled." [Matthew 23:12].

Who are the Magi? Some say that they were wise men, in the priestly class. I think of them as the intellectuals of their day. A dear relative of mine was recently admonished, "YOU are Christian??!! You are way too smart for that!" I love this story of the Magi, because it tells me that wise men (and women) are indeed followers of Christ.

Others say that the Magi are Kings from various regions. This teaches me that Jesus is there for ALL of us, no matter where we are from. And so, it is fitting that we call him a King of all nations.

As the Magi went on their journey, the star to the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the baby Jesus lay. It is then that the Magi were overjoyed! I love this image! Here, I see that, like the Magi, we are all on a spiritual journey, seeking Jesus, finding joy. In that journey, the star is always ahead of us in our sight, and that star is the light of Jesus.

As we pursue our life as followers of Jesus, we need to keep our eyes heavenward, towards His light. But we are not alone in our journey. We travel together, as the Magi did.

Yet, there are dangers to us as Christians. There are those who wanted to kill Jesus, and there are those who will hate us and pursue us as His followers, as well. King Herod feared Jesus' power, which Herod knew would be far greater than any earthly power that he would have as king.

The Magi obeyed God, who came to them in dream and warned them not to return to Jerusalem. They did not obey their earthly King Herod's command, to return and tell him where Jesus was. There are times when we must "Give to God what is God's". [Matthew 22:21].

And so, the Magi did not return to Jerusalem as King Herod asked. They took a different route. I have had to do that myself in my journey as a Christian. I have had to tuck my cross necklace under my shirt at times, so as not to invite non-believers' mockery and blasphemy. I have had to go off to church quietly and not rub it into the faces of the unfaithful in my life. I do not ever apologize for my faith, but I do not foolishly walk straight into persecution either. Sometimes detours in our journey are justified.

There are also dangers in those who will deny you your faith. King Herod wanted to find Jesus and kill him. Who are the Herod's in YOUR life, who would steal your faith, your gifts, your joy? After I reached age 14, my family refused to take me to church. They were not joyful people, certainly not hopeful in placing their faith in God. They did not think much of my gifts either, and they did not allow me to to pursue them. I have learned in my walk as a Christian that I need to "outwalk" those deniers, and outsmart them, just as the Magi did.

The Magi fulfilled their destiny by going out and spreading the word about the Christ child. We are to do the same: to spread the Word, to live the Word, to follow the Way, despite the dangers.

The threat against Jesus, from Herod, foretells Jesus' ultimate Crufixion. But the Herod's of the world cannot win out over the abiding Power of Jesus' love, and His eternal reign. And Jesus will take us with Him, if we only believe in Him and follow His light!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

My Year in Words

2012-01-05T12:56:00.000-08:00

" Only say the word and I shall be healed."

In the beginning, in my childhood, my home was an upside down and backwards place. The people who were supposed to feed me, did not. The people who were supposed to put me into my bed for naps, did not. The people who were supposed to keep me warm, did not give me a sweater.

Every day, I was called ugly. Sometimes I was hit. There were not proper boundaries between adults and children. I began to wonder who I really was?

At age ten, I took a vow of silence. There was nothing wrong with my voice. I simple decided to stop speaking.

This silence was an act of defiance. This vow said, "If you treat me this way, you cannot have me. I do not give myself to you. I am 'going away' ". So I retreated into myself.

This silence was an act of self-defense. I thought that if I ceased speaking, no one would notice me and They would leave me alone.

This silence lasted for years because for years, my situation did not change.

I did not become frozen in my verbal development, however. I would sit in my room and read and read and read. I read books from the library, I read the back of the cereal box, I read my brother's (boring) science magazines, I even read the dictionary. Today, I talk in a very "bookish manner" but I do speak.

On January 5, 2011, I started writing this blog. I did it on sort of a dare. I did it because I was kind of down and listless after Christmas. My husband said, "What you need is a blog!"

I went upstairs to our computer and twenty minutes later, Spiritual Devotional was born.

I have been astonished at the response -- and all on word of mouth. I have been read in 6 continents and in over 40 different countries. That's North America, the Caribbean, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, Africa, India, Asia, Australia and New Zealand. Every time I think that I cannot gain a reader in another country, I do.

When I stopped speaking, I gave up on humans. You could also say that I gave up on myself.

So it is a miracle that I am speaking again. It is an even bigger miracle that I am speaking to the whole world.

I really do not think that my story is that compelling. O is it my writing? What does the world see in me?

I believe that it is a spiritual hunger, the world wide over. I have prayed that the Holy Spirit will help me to write inspiring words. I have prayed to reach whoever needs to hear a message of hope. I have prayed that my blog will begin a world-wide conversation on the deeper questions of life.

This is, indeed, happening. You are asking how to be happy, how to face the sin we encounter every day, how to accept God in your life, how to forgive.

I do not have all the answers. I seek only to tell my story and I hope that it helps another soul who is struggling, as I am.

Who am I? I choose not to give my name. This gives me the freedom and the privacy to speak. But more than that, this blog tells a story, not so much about me, but about God and the universal human condition. It does not matter who I am. I am not trying to glorify myself. That status belongs to God.

Some would say that I am a Prophet. Well, Jesus calls all of us to be prophets-- to speak the Word to others, in order to make the world a better place. My aim is only to tell the Truth. I was told a lot of lies when I was a child. I am now a Truth Seeker. I want to share the truths I have found.

You notice that there are no ads on my blog. That is intentional. This is a ministry, and I want it to be a sacred, meditational space, a refuge from the clutter of our modern lives.

I respect my readers' privacy as well. I do not publish stat's on traffic sources, countries of origin etc.

Some have criticized my blog as not being a valid substitute for attending church or receiving the Sacraments, or being in community with other people of faith. I totally agree! This space is only a point of access to your faith and your spirituality. If my writing inspires you to meditate and pray, to attend church, or help a neighbor, to talk to your pastor, or or reflect on what your life is all about, then the Holy Spirit has done its job!

I publish a posting twice a week, once over the weekend based on Sunday's readings; and once during mid-week on various other topics of interest. I tend to follow a theme for each month. For example, Love in February, Lent in March etc. During July and August, I publish only once per week. I liberally reference Scripture chapter and verse to make it easier for you to transform each posting into a simple Bible study.

What does the future hold? I am thinking about maybe an app someday? Or a Podcast? Or even a devotional book for each liturgical year? Right now, for me, the best place to be is fully in the present. The past is something that I cannot change, the future is something I cannot worry about. So regarding all these future ideas, I say, God will bring me to where He chooses me to go!

Dear Friends, thank you for your readership. Thank you for your faith. If you enjoy reading my blog, pass the link along!

It has been a great year, in word, AND indeed!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

This vow of silence

Solemnity of Mary

2012-01-02T14:38:00.000-08:00

" There were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said, to them,' Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. . . . Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord.' When the angels had left them, the shepherds said to one another, 'Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.' So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph and the baby, who was lying in the manger. . . . They spread the word concerning what was told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed. But Mary treasured these things, reflecting upon them in her heart." [Luke 2: 8-19].

January 1 is the Feast of the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, The Mother of God. How fitting that we should honor Mary with this day, in the midst of the Christmas season!

Mary has been honored with many names. Her name, Mary, means, "Star of the Sea", for she resembles to us a bright beacon of light in dark stormy seas. She has also been called Our Blessed Mother; Madonna or Our Lady; Mother of Mercy [Salve Regina]; Virgin Mother; Mother of God (as Jesus is God in human form); Queen of Peace; Treasure of the Lord; Holy Vessel; and Virgin Mary.

Catholics, somewhat erroneously, pray to Her. In reality, prayers to Mary are considered to be our supplications that Mary pray FOR us. As the Mother of God, she is imbued, we believe, with the power to intercede with God on our behalf.

Clearly, Mary is a compelling, and even a mysterious, figure. Maybe she fascinates us so much because relatively little is known about her. After all, Jesus has the entire Bible devoted to him and his teachings. Mary is steadfastly there, throughout the story of His life, a faithful, beautiful, holy, devoted Mother.

On this, Mary's Feast Day, I wonder who she really was? I reflect upon what Mary really means to me and to my life.

We know that Mary was young and pure when Jesus was born. Historians believe that, consistent with the times, Mary was probably about 14, uneducated, a simple peasant girl. When I think of Jesus' birth, I wonder at how it must have been for Mary to give birth in a stable? But, I do not despair of her lowly origins or her humble story! In fact, I admire her even more for this. Mary's life teaches me that God does not choose only the prominent, the wealthy and the well-connected, as his beloved servants. When I see how God moved in Mary's life, I feel that there is hope for me! I am a mother, a simple human being, a "Nobody"; but if God can choose Mary, He can choose any of us!

Mary was human, not part divine like her Son, Jesus. She was chosen by God, but she possessed no miraculous powers. She was a mother above all. She desired merely to raise her Son in God's peaceful, humble, gentle ways. Jesus, of course, changed the world! Mary, in her own way, changed the world, as well. Mothers can change the world, in the ways in which they raise their children. I am so drawn to that experience of motherhood! The world wants to denigrate and devalue motherhood. Mary teaches otherwise!

In this way, Mary is a beacon of Motherhood. To follow Jesus as a Christian, I sometimes fail miserably. Then I get upset with myself. I ask myself, 'Who am I to try to follow Jesus, one who is part divine?" I fall down in my Christian journey, then I get up and I keep trying; and I hope that God loves me for that. But Mary is one I can turn to over and over again, because she is a mother and fully human, just as I am.

God knows me as a mother and He knows that I need Him every day if I am going to be a good mother. But in choosing Mary, God shows us that He needs us humans in order to carry out His plan. I may feel much less than worthy every day of my life, but knowing that God needs me, I am much more eager to rise to His call with grace and eagerness.

A mothers' walk is a difficult and fearsome journey. Mary felt fear, even before her journey as the Mother of God began. When the angel Gabriel came to her, to announce that she would bear the Son of God, Mary was afraid. How I want to emulate Mary in this instance because, no matter how terrified she was, she said, ' Yes!' to God! Courage is not lack of fear. Courage is feeling fear and doing it anyway. Many days, I begin and end my prayers with, "Here I am Lord. Let me do what You will!" In this way, I want to follow in Mary's journey. This means that sometimes, God's path is not at all what I had in mind. Oftentimes, to follow God's plan for me, I may be afraid, but I will myself to follow His call anyway.

How in the world did Mary obey God in this way? Well, she was totally open to God and His will. In Luke 1: 26-38, Mary replies to Gabriel, "Let it be done to me according to your word." Perhaps in these modern times, we would say that Mary is too subservient here. We would say that she is not being proactive in setting her goals for herself, or thinking creatively about her life. For me, what I see in Mary here is the guts to become an open and Holy Vessel to God's plan for her. How many of us have the courage to open ourselves totally to God in that way?

And in saying yes to God, her One True God, Mary defied the rule of Rome. How important it is as a mother to have the courage to "defy Rome"-- to go against what is popular or convenient at the time, and to stand for what is just and right! For if mothers do not stand against the materialistic, selfish, superficial ways of the world, their children will all too easily lose sight of God.

Mary raised Jesus but then she had to let him go into the world.. When Jesus was 12, he and his parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of Passover. His parents left after the Feast, thinking he was with them. When they realized he was not with them, they spent 3 frantic days looking for him. They found him in the Temple, talking with the priests. When they told him that they had been looking for him, he said, "Why. . . .? Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's House?"

Then, when he was an adult, she watched, heartbreakingly, as he was crucified. She had to witness his suffering and let Him return to God. As a mother, I want to raise my son at home, but then, I pray that I may be loving enough to give him to the world. My son is merely one whom I raise, and whom I borrow for awhile. But he is his own person, belonging ultimately to God, even from his birth. Can I be so loving as to let him go, when it is time? And when I do let my son go, I pray that I may be humble enough to give him credit for his gifts, which are his, from God, and are not my gifts.

I wonder, how could Mary let go? I believe that she had to trust God! My own faith in God falters sometimes. I am only human. In the darkest of times, I wonder if God is still there and if all the traumas and deep pain I face could really be part of His plan for me? Mary had that faith and trust. Oh, that I had that faith and trust in abundance as she had!

But what I love most about Mary is how, in the Scripture quoted above, she is said to "treasure these things, reflecting upon them in her heart." I never want to become jaded by all the miraculous things in my life that God has to offer. Like Mary, I want to reflect upon all the instances of God's glory in my life: my major breakthroughs in faith, but also those tiny moments during the day when I can feel God's presence. I can treasure these things only if, like Mary, I spend time in reflection, treasuring the small but sacred moments in my day. This requires me to slow down!

God, You sent Mary into the world to become a Mother to us all!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

A New Year!

2011-12-30T09:42:00.000-08:00

" Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away . . . . .And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ' Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. [Then], He who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making everything new!' " [Revelation 21: 1-5].

New Year's Eve is upon us! Soon, the pages of the calendar will turn and we will be in a New Year and a new month- - - January, 2012.

The month of January is named after the Roman god, Janus, the god of two faces. The two faces of Janus point in opposite directions, symbolizing turning away from the old and simultaneously facing what is new. A classical statue of Janus resides in the Vatican Museum.

I have to confess that I really dislike New Year's Eve. I try to treat it as I would every other day. I resist all this pomp and celebration of ringing in the New Year. Every other month, I turn the pages of my calendar without much thought. Why should this day be any different? I think that many must feel this way. We discuss our plans for New Year's Eve as if it is an annual problem, not something to embrace. Why is that?

So many of us do not like to look back. If last year -- or any past years-- were painful or difficult, we do not want to even face those times. We want to kiss them goodbye. And yet, New Year's sort of forces us to look back, like the god Janus does, gazing over his shoulder. Maybe we fear that all those ghosts and traumas are still there to haunt us, no matter how much we would wish them away. Maybe we look back at what we have accomplished in our lives thus far and we feel guilty, as if whatever we have done is not good enough.

I have been trying to develop a healthier way of dealing with my past. This necessitates my delving into events of the past, even the painful or difficult ones. I can no longer bury my past. That does not make the past go away.

Some have criticized me for "dwelling" in my past. That kind of statement really stings me. If we do not examine and reflect upon our past, then we have no idea who we really are! For example, some in my family preferred to bury our Irish past. So I grew up thinking something was "wrong with me" for having all those freckles and that curly hair . . . . When I found out that I really was Irish, I fel intense relief and true joy in finally knowing the Truth about myself!

You cannot be comfortable in your own skin, or know who you really are with God, if you do not know who you are, and where you came from! In other words, you must confront your past!

BUT, you do not have to live there. Jesus, reflecting upon his life here on earth, said to His disciples, "Do not hold onto me, for I have not yet returned to the Father! " [John 20:17]. He also said, "I am with you for only a short time and then I shall go to the One who sent me." [John 7:33]

It is like that with the past. Jesus is saying, "Do not hold onto the past". But we can learn from the past. After all, we commemorate the past with Jesus, and even absorb a tiny piece of Him, and His Spirit, each time we receive the Eucharist.

Whether we do glorify our past happiness, or whether we wish all the pain of the past away, I truly believe that it is in that moment that we are deeply desiring to be closer to God! It is when we desire Perfection, that we desire God!

So now, I think that I have finally found a healthier way to deal with the past this New Year's. When I feel anxious about the past, unwilling to give credence to all of the pain, unable to let go of the times of joy, what I am really feeling is a deep longing for God. And that longing for God is always okay.

And so, what to do with the "other face" of New Year's Eve? How to confront the future?

If I think too hard about the future, it terrifies me! I am so weak and imperfect! How can I be strong enough to accomplish all of the things I need to do; all of the things that God wants me to do?

When I was growing up, I was taught to worship human achievement. In this kind of construct of the world, there is no God, and all successes in life come from individual effort. No wonder the future terrifies me! I think of all the times of trouble that might lie ahead and I think: I can't do all this alone!!!

In Matthew 7: 25-33, Jesus teaches us, "Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life. . . Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

I do not take this to mean that I am to become passive and wait for life to happen TO me. I have gifts and talents and God means me to use them. But if I sit around terrified of the future, I will become paralyzed. Then, I will accomplish nothing.

This New Year's Eve, I want to imagine the face of Janus looking back at my past, and I want to honor what I have learned from the past. I want to let go of any intense pain over the past and give those troubles to God, who has the power to wipe away every tear, and rid me of all of my crying and mourning and pain!

This New Year's Eve, I want to imagine the face of Janus looking ahead to the future and I want to contemplate the future with hope. I now know the Truth about the future: I am not alone! Because God can make all things new!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Holy Family

2011-12-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

"Abram said, 'You have given me no children, so a servant in my household will be my heir.' Then the word of the Lord came to him. He took [Abram] outside and said, 'Look up at the Heavens and count the stars if you can. Just so shall your descendants be.' " [Genesis 15: 3-5].

December 30 this year marks the Feast of the Holy Family. This is the day on which we celebrate the Holy Family of Mary, Joseph and Jesus.

During the holiday seasons in the Christian year, the times of the year such as Christmas and Easter, I think of my own family. Sometimes, I feel so very down at holiday time. My parents are gone now. My extended family-- siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins-- are either deceased or live in far flung places. The only family I see at holiday time are on my husband's side. I thank God for them. But it is not the same.

This concept of closeness during the holidays is actually a lonely business for me! I feel sort of depressed during this time. I feel like I have no family.

I imagine how Abram (who became the great Abraham) must have felt. He had reached a very advanced age; the Bible says he was ninety-nine years old. And he had no children with his wife Sarai.

Even if my family were still around me, they were so far from perfect! We have all known dysfunctional families around us: families with alcohol addiction, arrest records, suicide in the family, verbal abuse, neglect, physical abuse, abandonment, even cruelty.

So we ask ourselves, how can we be expected to be joyous in this Christmas time, if we have no family, or if our family is so dysfunctional?

First of all, this dilemma causes me to reflect on the Holy Family itself. This family was holy and true and Heaven sent. But perfect? Not according to our modern eyes.

Joseph was a humble carpenter. Would I reject him today because he is not the go-getter, corporate type?

And Mary. . . .She was apparently very young, maybe all of fourteen. She was uneducated, perhaps not literate. Would I judge her for not being a worthy mother? And her pregnancy-- when she had had no relations with a man? Hunh?!

At the time, Joseph was merely engaged to her. Then an angel came to him and explained that it would be best for him to stand by her, because she was with child by the power of the Holy Spirit.

None of this makes much sense in an earthly way. But we accept this family in a sacred way; in fact, we welcome them joyfully into our hearts! For God, this family IS perfect!

After awhile, as I have begun to think of this Holy Family, I have realized that my own family does not have to be perfect, and neither do I. God accepts us all as His children anyway!

Then, I realize: In some ways, having no family is very freeing! Do you think I am crazy for saying this?

I say this because, if No One is my family, then I am free to regard Everyone as my family! I really like this idea. If Jesus, Mary and Joseph can represent the Holy Family for all humankind, then why can't I welcome all the children of God as my own family? Even if we had no other human being on earth, we are all part of this one Holy Family!

My son said to me recently that he wants his best friend to be his brother. I said to him, "Your best friend can be your brother! You just have to treat him that way!"

In this Scripture above, God explains to Abram that he should go out and look up at the night sky and count all the stars. Then he will get an idea of how many descendants that he will have, whom he can call family!

I ponder how many hundreds of millions, even billions of people there are in this world. Then I think about how I complain bitterly that I have "no family" !

In truth, I have a family as extensive as the number of stars in the sky. These stars, my family of God, are more numerous than I can count. And these "brothers and sisters" are all, each in their own way, a beacon of brilliant light!

God, I praise you for sending all of Your sons and daughters into this world. I pray that I may always remain grateful for Your family all around me!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Christmas Joy!

2011-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

" To all who received [Jesus], to those who believed in his name, he gave the right [the power] to become children of God." [John 1: 12]

What is it that feels so special about Christmas?

Is it the awe and wonder on the faces of the children, when they run to the Christmas tree to see what gifts are awaiting them ?

Is it the innocent sound of a childrens' choir, singing Christmas carols?

Is it the sweet scent of the pine tree or evergreen boughs gracing our home?

Is it the crunch of new snow underfoot, and the surprising burst of fog as we exhale the cold air?

Is it the cocoa-y rich taste of a hot chocolate after an afternoon of sledding?

Is it the glow of lights on the outdoor trees and shrubs, banishing the darkness?

Is it the comfort foods of our heritage-- the dinner of seven fishes on Christmas Eve in Italian families, the plum pudding set aflame in English families, the dense, rich Buche de Noel in French families?

Is it the burst of sparks from the new log placed on the fire?

Is it the reunion with family and friends around a holiday table, breaking bread together?

To me, Christmas is all these things. But these are only the outward manifestations of Christmas.

Christmas truly is the tiny babe who unto us is born, that newborn child sleeping in a humble manger -- who nevertheless was the gift that changed us-- that changed the world!

Christmas is the unfolding of His Power --a force to bring change to the world, and to change US. Christmas is the totality of His humble, peaceful, loving, hopeful and joyous Self!

God, of all the gifts I have received, the most sacred and blessed is the coming of Your only Son, Jesus, whose name means "God saves."

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Is Christmas Illegal?

2011-12-21T11:20:00.000-08:00

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" [Clement C. Moore].

The United States was founded upon the principle of religious freedom. Every school child in America knows that the pilgrims came to the New World, in large part, to be allowed to worship within their own religion and in their own way. In other words, in America, there would be no government established religion.

In recent years, there have been lawsuits against towns that display a creche on their town green. It is said that the display of a manger on town property is government endorsement or establishment of religion. This decision stands even if ALL symbols of the season are displayed there, such as inclusion of a Menorah. We have criminalized Christmas.

A few years ago, I attended a year end party hosted by a client. Several us stood in a circle, festive drinks in hand. We did not dare say "Merry Christmas" out loud, for fear of offending. Finally, one in our midst asked timidly, "Can we say 'it'? Then, we all whispered "Merry Christmas" to each other. We have taken Christmas underground.

The Christmas concert has become the "Holiday Concert." We send out cards that say "Season's Greetings." The worst example of this lately was a card I found for sale in my local market. The front of the card showed a jolly Santa. The caption read, "Season's Greetings". Talk about mixed messages. Or covering all bases. We have euphemized Christmas.

In similar stores, I see coffee mugs for sale with snowmen or snowflakes pictured. The items are labeled "Winter Decorations." We have "dumbed down" Christmas.

It is the same, at any time of the year, when we mention God's name. There comes a shocked hush, even a gasp. The reaction comes, not from the fear of uttering the holy, it comes from the fear of offending. We have turned "God" into an offensive word.

And now, not surprisingly, we live in a largely secular society. Christmas gift giving has reached new lows of greed and selfishness. Christmas has become an exercise in: "Tell me what you want and I will buy it for you." Recently, I heard in the news about a new trend: people registering their gift list with department stores in malls. We have materialized Christmas.

What happens when we materialize Christmas, when we secularize it, when we stigmatize it, when we criminalize it, when we euphemize it? Quite simple, we allow ourselves to lose Christmas, in all of its holy, magical, mystical, cultural and historical ways.

Worse yet: when we treat our own Faith as a threat, then we allow others to threaten it as well. What starts as well-meaning politesse ends up as fear. And then ALL faiths are in peril.

There is a true story of Faith in peril in Billings, Montana in 1993. In December of that year, a cinder block was thrown through the window of a Jewish family in Billings. The window, decorated with a Menorah and Stars of David, was shattered. The block landed in the room of the family's 5 year old son.

But this was a town that would not take this lying down. Children in Sunday School (yes, Christians) drew Menorah's for everyone in town to post in their windows. The local paper ran a full page picture of a Menorah so that residents could copy the page and post it. Every business in town posted a Menorah in its windows.

The racist hate group responsible for this vendetta had also been allegedly responsible for a bomb threat called into a local synagogue on their New Year. After the almost universal show of support at Hanukka, the hate group backed off and left town.

A reporter from the Billings, Montana newspaper interviewed the mother whose 5 year old son's bedroom had received the blow from the cinder block. This mothers' conclusion: "Never hide who you are!"

[Read the whole story of Christmas in Billings, Montana, 1993 at www.facinghistory.org; the article entitled "Not in Our Town"].

Perhaps we Christians see our God as the one true God and Jesus as the only Messiah. But if we do not become Defenders of the Faith for ALL of our brothers and sisters, we risk having no religion at all.

One Christmas, when I was in high school, a Jewish friend of mine came to Christmas Even Mass with me. She did not believe in Jesus as the Son of God but she was thrilled by the beauty of the church and the inspiring music. I always went out and bought her a Hannukah card, and she always sent me a Christmas card. In turn, I went to Friday night services at her temple, just to see what her faith was like in action.

To wish someone "Happy Holidays" comes either from fear or laziness. This Christmas, I challenge you to take an extra moment to ask the person you meet, "What do you celebrate?" Then, take a moment to wish them "Merry Christmas", or "Happy Hanukkah" or whatever.

Welcoming all into our hearts is, to me, the true meaning of Christmas!

Love to all,

The Spiritual Devotional

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The Prince of Peace

2011-12-20T12:01:00.000-08:00

For unto us a Child is born, to us a Son is given, . . . . and He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace and, of His governance and peace, there will be no end." [Isaiah 9:6].

It seems that Jesus is honored with many names. Jesus means "God saves". "The Christ" comes from the Greek meaning for "Messiah." Some call Him Emmanuel, which means "God-With-Us." Jesus is also known as our Savior (literally "the One who saves".) In this Scripture, He is also called Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting Father.

This week being the last week of Advent, I prefer to call Jesus "The Prince of Peace". Just as the first purple candle on the Advent Wreath symbolized Hope and the second purple candle symbolized Love, and the pink candle symbolized Joy, so the fourth purple candle symbolizes Peace.

This week in Advent, as Christmas preparations are reaching a fevered frenzy, I seek above all, Peace! And where I find this peace is with The Prince of Peace, Jesus.

Recently, my young son asked me what I wanted for Christmas? I said, with a twinkle in my eye, "Uhhh. . . .'Peace on earth, good will to men?' " [Luke 2: 14]. My son answered, "That's what you want from your brother!" Oh, the great wisdom in a child.

The truth is, during my childhood, I enjoyed no peace. There was food in the house but sometimes I was not fed. There were no locks on the bedroom or bathroom doors, and no proper sense of boundaries between the adults and children. I had no fan to keep me cool on summer nights, even though everyone else in the house had a way to stay cool. I was ridiculed each day for being ugly. If I hid in my room, I could never be sure that it was physically a safe haven. If I left to go outside, the neighborhood children would taunt me. Even though I made straight A's, I was called a failure at home, and a "brain" out in the world. No place was safe.

Living in physical deprivation and fear is not a pathway to Peace. There is no Hope in this kind of life.

And yet, I learned to stay out of the way. Like Jesus and his Disciples, if there was no welcome "in one village", I would move on. Jesus instructed His disciples, "Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave. . . If people do not welcome you, shake the dust off your feet when you leave their town." I was in school long hours, I would hide in my room and read; if that was not safe, I would go outside and ride my bike, the wind blowing gently through my hair. I would eat when and where I could, I would move on to somewhere else if the kindness stopped. I became essentially "nomadic."

In my house growing up, family members had sardonic names for every ethnic group in the world. All "those people" were inferior to Us, or so it was repeated. I was embarrassed and ashamed at what was being said. Someone recently remarked that it is a wonder I did not turn out that way? I replied, choking up, "You do not understand, a child does not want Hate. She wants only Love."

Living in a house of bitter judgment against others is not a pathway to Peace. There is no Love in that way of life.

I could not change how my family felt and believed. But I did try to make a difference in our home. I volunteered to tend my mother's garden, if she would only allow me to bring some flowers and plants into my room. I offered to do all the family's sewing and mending, if only my mother would buy me a sewing machine. One summer, I painted the foundation of our house after a small addition was built.

Despite all of my good works, I fell into a kind of Despair. No matter how much I did, it seemed it was never good enough, never enough to keep me safe. My family had taught me that there is no God; or if there is a God, He is there only for the desperate, whose human capabilities have failed them. In other word, only "Losers" who cannot accomplish anything need God. The rest of us get along just fine without Him.

Living in a place where we are judged only by our own fragile efforts as humans-- but where there is no Faith, no God-- is not a pathway to Peace. There is no Joy in this kind of life.

So where do I find Peace?

I find Peace in Jesus, in what He teaches me and in what He stands for. I find Peace through Hope, through Love, through Faith and through Joy.

This Christmas, will you find the promise of the Hope, the Love, the Faith, the Joy, in the Child who is born unto us?

Lord, I crave the Peace in my life that Only You can bring, through the birth of Your only Son.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Christmas In My Heart

2011-12-14T12:13:00.000-08:00

" Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare Him room. And heaven and nature sing, and heaven and nature sing. . . ." [Hymn published 1719, based on Psalm 98 ].

This is the third week of Advent, beginning with this past Sunday, which was Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete means rejoice in Latin. During the third week of Advent, two purple candles are lit, as is the pink candle.

We light the pink candle and rejoice because Christmas is almost here! While the first purple candle represents Hope and the second purple candle represents Love, the third, pink candle represents Joy.

As the hymn "Joy to The World" proclaims, we are to prepare Him room. That is, we are to open our hearts and our homes to the coming of Jesus. We are to open our hearts to the Joy that Jesus brings.

I have had more than a few times in my life when I have felt such a huge joy in my heart, that I did not want to let it go. I think of Christmases in my childhood-- the anticipation of that magical day was so overwhelming, I could hardly sleep. Of course, it was about what special gifts I would find under our Christmas tree-- maybe a doll, or a new dress, or a bicycle?

It was also about the shimmering Christmas tree, about singing Christmas carols in the car, about the Christmas cookies, the huge Christmas dinner and the visits with the relatives.

It was much more, though, about a special feeling in my heart. I was in the Children's Choir when I was a girl. We wore red robes with white collars. Every year on Christmas Eve, the lights in the church were dimmed. Every child in the choir held a candle as we sang "Silent Night". I can tell you, there was not a dry eye in that church as that beautiful hymn rang out. Even I was almost in tears; I could barely sing!

At that moment, I felt a magical, mystical connection with Someone much bigger than I was. I believe today, that this deep feeling was my longing for the baby Jesus and the promise He holds for all of us.

Many years later, I was married in that same church. Immediately after the wedding ceremony, I told my husband that it was like the joy of Christmas. No, I certainly did not mean all the generous gifts that we received. I meant that pledging my love and honor to him, before God, for the rest of my life, was one of the biggest gifts I could ever receive. I had that joyous feeling again, a certainty that something sacred and mystical and special had just taken place.

That feeling came back the very first time I held our son. We waited 15 years to become parents. We were beginning to despair that we would ever have children. But when I held our son for the first time and peered into his tiny face, I was so overjoyed, I began to cry.

The next morning, when the day dawned, I tip-toed over to his crib and peeked in. And I could not believe my eyes. It really was true, this son of ours! His silky cheek was pink, I coudl see and feel his breathing. There he was, a flesh and blood human being and he was my son! It had not all been a dream, or our imagination, or a mirage! I told my husband, "It feels like Christmas morning!"

We all struggle as humans to control our despair, our anger, our hurt, our jealousy. We want to lash out, to blame others, to quit trying. We get sick of always being the diplomatic or generous one.

At those times, I try to hold that special Christmas feeling in my heart. Even during hot summer weather, when the calendar cannot be further from December 25, I try to pretend it is Christmas in our home. The decorations may be gone, but I strive for that Christmas feeling anyway.

I want to feel that joy so great that I feel like singing! I want to burst with happiness. I want to connect in a deep way with the One I have longed for since I was a young child. I want to experience a stillness and a peace that come from knowing truly who I am with God and His Son.

I want to hold Christmas in my heart, all year long, for the rest of my life!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

A Radical Love

2011-12-12T08:40:00.000-08:00

" 'There came a man who was sent by God. His name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning the light. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. . . . . The Jews of Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. He confessed freely, 'I am not the Christ.' They asked him, 'Then who are you? . . .Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?' John replied: 'I am the voice of one crying out in the desert. Make straight the way for the Lord.' Some Pharisees questioned him: 'Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ?' 'I baptize with water,' John replied, 'but . . . . after me comes one, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.' [ John 1: 6-27].

This "John" described in the Reading is known as John the Baptist. He is not a prophet, by his own admission. He sees himself as too lowly to be a prophet; unfit to untie the sandals of the One who will come after him.

John was an odd figure, by the standards of that time, and even by today's standards. In Mark 1: 2-6, John the Baptist is described as wearing "clothing made of camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist; and he ate locusts and wild honey."

The One to come after John the Baptist, of course, was Jesus. Who was this Jesus who came, claiming to be the Son of God?

Jesus taught His followers to "love thy neighbor as thyself." [Romans 13:9 ] And yet, in these times, so many of us tend to think of ourselves first.

He taught us to love our enemies. [ Matthew 5:44 ] And yet, the way of the world today, as ever, is to go to war against our enemies.

He taught us that it is better to give than to receive. [Acts 20: 35] And yet, we believe so often that we deserve to receive the best of everything.

He taught us that the humble shall be exalted. [Matthew 23: 12 ] And yet, we spend a tremendous amount of time on social media, exalting ourselves.

He taught us that the greatest commandment is love [1 Corinthians: 13] -- ( not money!) And yet, the world today believes that it is money that makes the world go 'round.

He taught us that we are the light of the world [Matthew 5: 14 ]. And yet, how often do we contribute to the darkness because of our greed, our sin, our doubt in anything good and true?

He taught us that hate is murder. [Matthew 5:21]. And yet, we expend a lot of psychic energy hating others, not loving others.

He taught us to overcome evil with good [Romans 12:9]. And yet, how much energy do we expend responding to evil by doing the same thing in return, as if revenge were the answer?

Jesus taught us to forgive "seven times seven" [Luke 17: 4 ]. And yet, we humans can spend a lifetime nursing a grudge, allowing a bitter anger to eat away at our souls.

Jesus taught us, "Judge not, or you too will be judged. [ Matthew 7:3]. And yet, these days, what passes for "news" is merely gossiping and judgment about celebrities, politicians, prominent citizens. Where is the energy being expended for real solutions?

Jesus taught us to "pray continually and . . . . give thanks in all circumstances". [1 Thessalonians 5: 18] And yet, we do not remember to give thanks during times when things are rough for us. In fact,instead of praying continually, we complain incessantly!

Imagine the radical and total change in the world, if we humans were to follow Jesus' teachings? Imagine if we sought love, not money above all else? If we sought peace, not war. If we sought humility, not constant self-promotion? If we sought tolerance, not hate? If we sought good, not evil? If we sought to give more than we thought we deserved to receive? If we sought to forgive, rather than to begrudge?

People criticize Christians. They say we fight to maintain the status quo. They say that we want to remain firmly entrenched in the old, conservative ways. They say that we resist any new world order.
In reality, the message that Jesus brings is totally opposed to the ways of this world; because, the Lord says, " My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways." [Isaiah 55:8].

When we celebrate Christmas and the birth of Jesus, we promise to learn and to follow His Ways. Christmas may be centuries old, but Jesus' teachings are as radically opposed to the ways of the world as ever.

This Christmas, do you dare to be "the voice of one, crying out in the desert?" Do you dare to be a follower of Jesus?

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Immaculate Conception

2011-12-08T09:07:00.000-08:00

"God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, to a virgin pedged to be married to a man named Joseph. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, 'Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.' Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary,you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus.'. . . .'How will this be,' Mary asked the angel, 'since I am a virgin?' The angel answered, 'The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. . . . For nothing is impossible with God.' "I am the Lord's servant,' Mary answered. 'May it be to me as you have said.' [Luke 1: 26-38].

I read this, and I think, Can you imagine how totally terrifed Mary must have been? She was humble, uneducated, a simple girl.

Then, one day, an angel comes to her and announces that she will be the mother of a son; and not just any Son, but the Son of Man!?

How could she say, Yes? And yet, how could she say, No? If she refused, she would be rejecting the call of God.

I confess that my mode of operation in life is one of absolute fear! I grew up in an upside down household. One minute a family member was nice, the next cruel. I came home from school one day when I was about six, and the family dog had been given away. We had food but sometimes, I was not fed. No one put me down for a nap if I needed one, so I put myself down for a rest.

Some children growing up in this kind of household would become angry-- at the family, at the world, at God. Other children growing up with such totally undependabel adults would become depressed and give up on humanity.

Instead, I became fearful. I did not feel safe,-- anywhere, at any time --when my needs were not being met and my life was so unpredictable.

And yet, I went to school. I got straight A's but I was terrified when the teacher called on me in class.

I learned to drive a car, but I refused to drive on the highway-- too many cars and trucks close to me, going way too fast.

I got out of university and got a job. I lived by myself in a big city. I took the underground train to work. I was terrified. I did it anyway. I had to make a living, right?

Then, I met a wonderful man, the guy who would become my husband. Only he was shy, too, so this romance was going nowhere . Neither one of us wanted to make the first move! Finally, I worked up the nerve to give him my phone number. I actually thought I was dying inside when I walked up to him and wrote out my number for him. You know what? I didn't die! We dated. . . . we got married.

I often think, if I had not given him my phone number, we would not be married now!

All of the wonderful, amazing, good, and precious fruits that I have reaped have come from taking a risk!

And yet, I am the biggest baby, scaredy cat, chicken you will ever meet! I hate to say hello first. I will not go anywhere for the first time alone; I have to go with someone. I hate loud noises. If it is too noisy, I close my eyes and put my fingers in my ears, like my young son does. If there is bad weather, like a thunder storm, I run upstairs to my bed and get under the covers!

So I do not understand it when people say that I am courageous. This cannot be; I totally live in fear.

What I think they must mean is that, no matter how terrified I am, I do it anyway.

Recently, I was at a religious conference and I was asked to stand in front of a microphone and say a few words. I was horrified at the thought. The woman next to me said, "I'll bet there are some things you would NEVER do for anyone else. But you do them for God!"

She was absolutely right! And this is what Mary did! She was terrified. She was not fearless. But she believed in Someone much larger and stronger than herself. She believed Gabriel when he said "The Lord is with you!"

So this is why I also cringe when people say I am so brave! They make my story out to be all about ME! But what I have done is not about me. Really, it is about God.

If I have used my gifts, they come from God. If I have seized opportunities presented to me, it is only because I have been open enough to the Lord, to recognize him when He comes. If I have said yes to God, it is only because I have faith -- which also comes from Him-- that I will not be going through this alone!

Oh, I have resisted His calls! I fought a long time against God's call to convert. "Impossible!", I said. This call came at a time when my mother was back in my life, back in my home, criticizing Christians as blind, hypocritical losers! "HOW," I asked God, "can you make me do this now?"

It turns out that His call and His timing were perfect. I did not know it at the time, since I cannot predict the future. Only God knows what is coming. But shortly after I converted, I was able to receive the Eucharist at my best friend's funeral!

St. Paul said that in our weakness, we are strong. [2 Corinthians:10-12]. For decades, I never understood this. Now I do. You may say that, despite my past hurts, I have done great things and accomplished much. I say to you, I have done all of these things "afraid". And I would be nothing-- not even alive, certainly not with these gifts-- without God.

I am human: I make mistakes. I doubt. I fear. I fall into deep despair. I say things like, "That will never happen!" But with God, nothing is impossible.

I do not want any personal acclaim for what I have done. I do not want to be put on a pedestal. In fact, I would be horrified at any lavish praise over me. This is not about me. I have done these things for God, with God, through God. Sometimes, I have even initially said no to God! (I can tell you that He does not go away!).

I have fought and struggled because I want only what is good and true and right. If you desire these things as well -- in reality, what you want is God!

Lately, when I pray each morning, I say, "Here I am Lord, let me do what You will!"

I used to look askance at these words of Mary. In a modern sense, we cringe at how passive she seems. We think, How can she let herself be used that way? Can't she promote herself a little? What does SHE want out of life?

In this age of social media, of self promotion and worship at the altar of Human Power, Mary's stance seems blasphemous. In fact, the opposite is true. When we worship only Human Power, we forget God!

If we think that only Humans are in charge, that is precisely when fear, anger, anxiety and despair set in! We shut down, we stop trying. We become useless. We become Nothing.

Lord, I pray that I may be open to You, that I may discern Your will. I pray that, like Mary, I may say Yes to your plan for me, for I know that You hold me in Your loving arms.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2100. All Rights Reserved.

The Hope of The Lord

2011-12-05T11:24:00.000-08:00

" First of all, you must understand, . . . . scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. They will say, 'Where is this coming He promised?' . . . . But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. . . .So, then dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found blameless and at peace with Him". [2 Peter 3: 3-14].

With God, time is elastic. We humans are bound in earthly time, the time of clocks and calendars and waiting. We grow impatient, with life, with ourselves, even with God.

When, Lord, will I ever learn to ride a bicycle? When, Lord, will I make a best friend? When, Lord, will I graduate from school? When, Lord, will I find a job? When, Lord, will I meet my soul mate? And so it goes, our whole lives.

We want things to be perfect. And we want it now. That is, we want it in human time ---sooner rather than later. And we want things to come "in the proper order", as we see it. We want things to come, in the way we want them to come.

Can we ever understand that maybe we humans are being judged, just as much by how we wait, as by the end result?

Advent is a waiting. It is the preparation for the coming of the Lord. Our concept of time would be quite different if we could only think of Advent as a process. In old movies, the pages of a calendar would twist and fly away as if by magic. Today, when watching a movie at home, we can "fast-forward" through the slow or boring parts.

We cannot fast forward through the boring or difficult or even painful parts in real life, though. We must wait things out. We must go through what life brings our way. Advent tells us that the preparation-- the process-- is just as important as the arrival.

A dear friend used to tell me that we WILL all have to wait. So then, the issue becomes simply one of how we wait.

I remember times in my life when the waiting was excruciating. I waited my first 26 years for a human being to hug me and say, "I love you!" During this time, I was a child. I would sometimes turn away from any hope that humans could give me love. I would run away and hide. Other times, I was angry or in despair.

Later, I was blessed enough to get married. But my husband and I had to wait 15 years before we became parents. All over again, I was sometimes angry, sometimes in despair. Sometimes, I felt like giving up.

You see, I had my own ideas of how things should go. I told God that I deserved a loving family of origin. If I could not have that, then, I deserved to get married and to have children. I wanted my poetic justice, as a triumph over my past.

I am now married. My husband has changed my life; he has changed ME. I am now the mother of a beautiful son. Our son came at a time that I did not expect, in a way that I did not expect. He is everything I could have hoped for or prayed for in a child. He was totally worth the wait.

I still do not understand why I had to wait so long for my very own loving family ? I still do not understand why the "love" in my family of origin was so painful and so very imperfect. I still do not understand why I had to wait something like 40 years before enjoying this time of supreme happiness?

Advent is like that!! We do not fully understand this promise of a loving Father clearing away all of our sins and transforming the world. We do not understand the timing of it, any more than we understand when Jesus will come again. We do not understand the "why of it". Why do we, as humans, deserve the coming of a divine presence in our world? We do not understand the "how" of it. Who knew that God would accomplish this by sending us His only Son in human form?

Who could have foreseen the power and joy of His Son? During Advent, the only practice that works for me is my faith, my trust that God knows things that we cannot know.

During Advent, I try to ignore the skeptics and the scoffers. My own family would say things like, "Immaculate Conception! Does anyone really believe that?!" To me, Advent IS the season to prepare the way for something, for Someone more sacred, more holy, more divine. Our world can be so ugly, so divisive, so violent. I cannot live with the thought that that is all there is. I NEED to believe!

When Christmas is coming, I feel beside myself with impatience. But in Advent, I try my best to practice patience with others, and with myself. I give others my peace-- not my irritation, my stress, my hurried and harried self. I want my Advent to be about peace, not strife.

As Advent unfolds, I long for the joy, the hope, the peace, the promise. I am also mindful of the many ways in which I, as a human being, fall far short of these. I can never be as perfect, as divine as Jesus. But I march always towards Him, as my Guide, the Sign for our future.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Advent Rituals

2011-12-01T08:52:00.000-08:00

"O come, O come, Emmanuel!" -- traditional hymn

I love Advent and I love it even more, in some ways, than Christmas itself. Is it disrespectful to admit this?

Advent is a season of reflection, yes. But it lacks the solitude and dark thoughts of Lent. During Lent, I spend a lot of solitary, quiet time with God and Jesus. I examine my conscience and my soul. I dig deeply and confess my faults. I make resolutions to expand my faith, to become more committed to God in my life.

All this peaceful contemplation can certainly occur during Advent too. But there is more joy to my prayer during Advent. I wait in hopeful expectation for the coming of God's son.

I remember as a child being so excited about Christmas arriving, that when I was put to bed, I was beside myself with anticipation. I would squeal and kick my feet so hard, all the covers would fall off the bed and onto the floor!

The anticipation about Christmas is one of the best parts. I want to be this excited about Christmas every year. I believe that God and Jesus want us to experience this joy too.

Advent is a "feeling" in our hearts. It is also a season in which we prepare for Christmas. I want to prepare myself peacefully and mindfully, though.

I had a family member who would say every year, "I HATE Christmas!" This was because the preparations for that awesome day were nothing but a burden to him. He would stress about what gifts to buy for everyone, he would stress about how much money he was spending, he would stress about who was hosting Christmas dinner and what food there would be to eat.

We really need our Advent rituals to force us to slow down. To me, Advent is not about a race to the finish line of Christmas Day Nor is it -- as with Lent-- going off by myself to meditate. It is about being together with family and loved ones, and truly remembering what Christmas is really about-- the birth of Jesus.

The ritual of the Advent wreath has been around since at least the Middle Ages. An Advent wreath can be made of any evergreen boughs that you have on hand locally. I can even imagine a lovely wreath made of woven grape vines. The wreath is set flat on a table. Four taper candles are placed around the cricle of the wreath, three of them purple and one pink. In the center of the wreath is placed a large white pillar candle. The wreath is lit each evening after reciting grace at the dinner table.

The father says a prayer or blessing over the wreath each evening. Then, in the first week of Advent one purple candle is lit. The second purple candle is lit the second week, along with the first. The pink candle is lit the third week, along with the other two. The pink candle is to symbolize the joy that Christmas is almost here! The last week before Christmas, all the candles are lit. On Christmas eve, all the candles are lit, along with the white candle in the center. The white candle symbolizes Christ.

I never realized this, but each family member gets a turn to light candles. In the first week, the youngest family member lights the candle. In the second week, the oldest child lights two candles. The next week, the mother lights three candles, including the pink candle; and in the last week, the father lights all four candles.

For more information on the ritual of the Advent wreath, check out "the history of the Advent Wreath" at www.catholiceducation.org.

Lord, in all my preparations for Christmas, I pray that I may experience the peace and joy of Advent, as I await the birth of Your Son.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

My Advent

2011-11-28T07:44:00.000-08:00

"You, Lord, are our father. . . . Why do you let us wander, O Lord, from your ways, and harden our hearts? No ear has ever heard, no eye ever seen, any God but You, doing such deeds for those who wait for Him. Yet, O Lord, You are our father; we are the clay and You the potter! We are all the work of Your hands." [Isaiah 63: 16-19; 64:2-7].

Advent begins on the Sunday nearest to November 30. And so, once again, the season of Advent is upon us.

Advent means "arrival" and it signals a new beginning in the Christian calendar. We begin a new Christian year with this season of hope and joy, as we wait for the arrival of the baby Jesus.

I have had many seasons of Advent in my life. In our lives, there are seasons of incredible energy and action. Then there are seasons of waiting. We humans cannot "see" God at work and so, we think nothing is happening. But God is there, preparing a Way for us, and we need to prepare ourselves for Him!

My childhood was topsy turvy and upside down. As with a House of Mirrors, nothing was as it seemed. My family judged others, yet detested being judged themselves. We had plenty of food but many nights, I was not fed a proper dinner. We called ourselves "Christians" but we stopped going to church when I was 14. Our health was of paramount importance to my family; in fact, one of the things that my mother feared the most was ill health. And yet, treatment for my chronic lung condition ceased when I began high school. I heard poetic rhetoric about the love of a mother for her child, but no one ever hugged me or said "I love you."

Even when I was very young, I longed for something, or Someone, who was more loving, more peaceful, more gentle, more compassionate, than the people I had been given. I did not understand it at the time, but I was really longing for God!

I knew in my heart that instead of strife, I was meant to have peace. I knew that instead of the cold withholding of affection, I was meant to receive love. I knew in my heart that instead of judging others for something they could do nothing about, I was meant to show mercy to others.

I underwent a prolonged period, waiting for God. In the meantime, my family believed that I was a piece of clay that it was their responsibility to shape and mold. They told me what to eat, how to wear my hair, what colors to wear, what to study in school, where to go to school, what profession I would pursue, whom to date, even what company to work for. I felt a failure sometimes, because I could not be the person they told me to be.

I did not know about this Scripture from Isaiah, that it is God who is our One True Father. Our parents only borrow us for awhile, and if you are lucky, your parents guide you, not in worldly ways, but in the ways of God, in the path towards Christ.

If you believe that it is your job to mold and shape someone in your own image, you are playing God. Only God can truly lead you. "We are all the work of His hands."

And so I waited. But I did not simply bide my time. I did not wait passively. I studied hard in school. I had to get A's so that I could leave my father and my mother, and become independent. I started a babysitting business and saved all my money for my future.

Most importantly, I did my best to keep peace in my childhood home. I tended to my mother's garden. I sewed and mended the family's clothes. If the strife became too much, I simply walked away. I went to my room and sang songs. Or, I left the house and sat under a fragrant pine tree.

After I finished my undergraduate and graduate studies, I moved to a nearby city and rented an apartment. I bought curtains and a quilt. I purchased furniture and acquired cooking utensils. I worked hard at my job and received a nice raise. Finally, I was ready ---and God sent the man who was to become my husband.

I had made all my preparations, meeting hard times with peace, with love, with hard work, with the patience and faith of expecting a better future. And God finally came to me, when I was ready for Him.

There is God in my mate. My husband is gentle, kind, patient, slow to anger, compassionate and merciful. He loves me for myself, AND despite myself (for we all have our many faults, being only human).

God is preparing a loving, peaceful Way for all of us through the Way of His Son. But, as the parable in Mark 13:33-37 says, we must "Be watchful! Be alert! . . . . May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping."

I waited 26 long years for my husband to come along. I waited 26 long years for someone to hug me and say, "I love you!"

What is your Advent? And how long will you wait -- lovingly, patiently, peacefully, even joyfully for the coming of God, and Christ, into your life?

Or will you be too busy to notice; too angry to reap the rewards; too asleep to even recognize God when He comes into your life; too self-absorbed to discern the path in following the Prince of Peace?

God, we are all the work of Your hands! Your Ways are not our ways. But we seek Your ways in waiting joyfully for the coming of Your Son!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-21T06:50:00.000-08:00

"Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices; who wondrous things has done, in Whom this world rejoices." [ traditional hymn, lyrics by Reverend Martin Rinkart, c. 1636]

When we think of the first Thanksgiving in America, we think of the celebration of the pilgrims in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1621. The first Thanksgiving was a celebration of a fruitful harvest.

Today in America, the traditional meal of roast turkey, with bread based stuffing, vegetables and pie has been adapted by the many cultures who call the United States home. I have a friend from China who stuffs the turkey with rice. An Italian family roasts the classic turkey, but as side dishes, they serve lasagna or ziti.

Whatever the culinary differences, the one ritual that binds all the many cultures together is the practice of giving thanks on that special Thursday in November.

And so-=- what are you thankful for?

When I was a child, I often went to bed hungry. Now, I am thankful for the abundant food that I can eat every single day.

As a child, I developed a chronic lung disease. When I was 14, treatment for this condition ceased. Now, I am thankful that I have a doctor who cares for me faithfully. I am grateful for every breath.

When I was born, my mother almost died in childbirth and I almost died too. I have had other traumas and near death experiences, a fire in a relatives' house, a near drowning in a neighbor's pool, a violent assault upon me when I was in university. I am thankful to be alive!

As a child, I often did not feel safe in my own bed. I would wait until everyone else was in bed before I would go to sleep. Today, I am grateful to be safe and secure in my own bed.

When I was ten, all the years of trauma caught up with me. I ceased speaking. I am thankful that I have a voice again!

In my old neighborhood, the children would taunt and bully me. Now, I am grateful for the many true and loving friends that I have in my life.

As a child, sometimes I would tell my parents that I was cold and they would reply, "No, you are not". Since I was not taken seriously, I was not given a sweater to warm me. Today, I am grateful that I have many sweaters, and I can go put on a sweater whenever I want.

For several years, my family took me to church. I received my First Communion when I was 13. But mostly, my family would avoid those Eucharist Sundays. I am thankful now that I have the privilege to receive the Eucharist at Mass.

When I was 14, my family stopped taking me to church. When I would ask to go to church, I was told, "We don't do that any longer." I am grateful that I can go to Mass now, anytime I want to.

In the last year of her life, my mother was so frail that she could no longer walk. She was reduced to moving around in a wheelchair. I am grateful that I can walk, and even run!

For some years, it was uncertain whether or not my husband and I could ever have children. I am very grateful for the joy and the privilege of being a mother!

I am grateful for such simple things. Some people get angry at me for asking for so little . They say that I am being too minimalist, that I should not be so self-denying or negative. They say, 'You need to dream bigger. You deserve more!'

On the contrary, my gratitude is huge for me! Where once I was hungry, now I have food to eat. I once was cold, scared, lonely, alone, physically ill, refusing to even speak, separated from my church and my faith.

Now I am truly alive, in mind, body and spirit! This is not minimalist and defeatist. This is the essence of life!

Sometimes, we get stuck in traffic and we get impatient. We get irritated if our favorite item is out of stock at the market. We hear something we do not like on the radio or television and we yell at the TV, as if that will change anything. We suffer from a deep discontent that someone has a nicer car or a bigger house or fancier clothes.

In those cases, I always go back to visualizing who I was, and how it was for me in my early years. And then I am profoundly grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you! Stay grateful!!

Lord, I thank you for the life- affirming rebirth that I have found today, in my home, in my friends, in my faith, and in You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The Least Among Us

2011-11-18T11:21:00.000-08:00

" When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him and he will separate the sheep from the goats. . . . the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right: 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. . . .[But] amen I say to you, whatever you did not do for the least of my brothers, you did not do for me.' " [Matthew 25: 31- 45].

When I was a child, my parents would set before me a plate of food at dinner time. If the food was too sophisticated in taste for me, too adult in flavor, I could not eat it. But, even though there was plenty of other food in our house, I was given nothing else to eat. Not a piece of bread with butter, nor scrambled eggs, nor a bowl of cereal. I was hungry but my parents did not feed me!

Like all small children, I longed to feel loved and cherished. But no one hugged me or said, "I love you". Instead, I was verbally abused, hit and neglected. I was thirsty for human comfort but no one gave me to drink from the well of human affection.

If I reported that I was cold, I was told that I was just complaining to gain attention, which I did not deserve. No one allowed me to go fetch a sweater from my room. The house was locked and no one gave me the key. I did not have the clothes I needed to stay warm.

When I was seven, I was diagnosed with a chronic lung disease. Treatment for this stopped when I was 14. We could afford to go to the doctor but I was no longer treated. I was sick and no one looked after me.

In this household of deprivation, I began to shut down in all ways. I hid in my room. I shut my emotions down. I stopped speaking. I gave up asking for more food at home. I tiptoed around quietly to escape notice. No one put me in prison by force, but I imprisoned myself. Yet, no one noticed that I had "disappeared". No one came to find me or to draw me out.

When I went away to university, I was the victim of a violent crime. My family did not rescue me and bring me home to heal. It was strangers who visited me, who took me in and gave me rest, who gave me meals, and allowed me to drink the milk of human kindness. I do not know what I would have done without them.

It has taken me many years to figure out how to respond to my past. I have tried to bury it--- believe me, deprivation and abuse never truly go away. You cannot wish the ugly past away. Even if you have processed it fully, it is always there.

It has hurt me deeply that I was treated this way. It hurts even more to realize who my family really was. Anyone can pretend that they love you. But the way in which someone may treat you is a very different matter. In this Reading, Love is a verb! Furthermore, whatever you do to those around you, you are doing TO Jesus.

I have had people say to me, 'Well, your family did not do this TO you". No, it is worse thatn that! This Scripture says that they were doing this TO Jesus!
I have tried many, many times over, to "confess" my family's sins. Sady, I was merely trying to "rescue" my family from their sins. After many attempts at this, a wise mentor told me that it does not work to confess the sins of another. A priest can absolve only YOU, of your own sins.

Ultimately, I have decided to respond by becoming the most loving, merciful and gentle person I can be. In other words, I respond to all the past neglect, cruelty and deprivation, by exhibiting the utmost love to others.

I allow others to drink deeply from the well of gentle affection, which I offer freely to all.

I reach out to those who are in their own personal prisons--- dark, lonely places of grief, of hurt, of despair.

I gather food, to give to those who have less.

Recently, in a kind of poetic justice, I gave away one of my own sweaters, to someone who needed it far more than I. This sweater came to me as a lovely gift, but it did not fit and it did not suit me. I put it aside. I kept asking God, "This sweater is not 'mine'. Whose is it?"

There is a wonderful lady in my life, who comes each week to help me around the house. One day, I showed her the sweater. It was still in the gift box with the ribbons and tags. I insisted that she try it on. The sweater fit like it was made for her. God had showed me that this was "her" sweater, not mine.

So I gave the sweater to her with a joyful heart. She cried when I handed her the box. She clutched the sweater between her hands and cried, "Happy! Happy!" I cried too. I had come full circle! I had started out cold and rejected, with no sweater; but I had ended up joyfully giving away my birthday present.

How carefree it is to love the easy people in our life! How much more of a risk does it take to love "the least among us"? By loving others--- even those living life "on the edge", even those we would otherwise barely notice-- we are loving Christ!

And so, I have come full circle. In response to the hate and neglect and cruelty in my past, I have responded instead, as a matter of belief, with love, mercy and gentleness. In responding with love, I am rescuing myself from a life of re-living, and passing along, that hatred and cruelty. As I rescue myself from a continued life of pain, I am rescuing others out of love. I am becoming a follower of Christ.
Lord, let me love everyone around me, as much as I love You, with all my heart, with all my soul and with all my mind!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Gratitude

2011-11-16T08:27:00.000-08:00

" Be joyful in all ways! Pray continually; give thanks, in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. Do not put out the [Holy] Spirit's fire. . . . Hold onto the good. Avoid every kind of evil." [1 Thessalonians 5: 16-22].

A wise mentor talked with me recently about prayer. He told me, 'Always begin your prayer with a praise of thanksgiving. Always, be grateful, no matter how dark things may seem.'

I have not always understood the importance of gratitude. Our attitude of thanksgiving, both in good times and bad ["in all circumstances"], can brighten our whole world, with hope, with nearness to God, even with joy-- despite the bad times!

Several years ago, I was going through a particularly rough period. I had accepted a new job in a different state. But the economy was declining into recession. My husband stayed behind in our old house and with his old job. Surely, we thought, this would not be for long and our old house would sell quickly. The weeks stretched to months. Then, tragically, my husband's mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We sold our old house at a loss to be nearer to her in the new state. We had to downsize into a small rented apartment.Then, my husband was unable to find a new job in the down economy. After four months of suffering, my dear mother-in-law died of cancer. We had hoped to start a family as a way of marking a new beginning and a new life for ourselves. Then we found out that we might not be able to have children. One night, our car was stolen. The last straw was when even my husband's beloved cat died!

Every day when I awoke, I faced my mirror and told myself My Troubles. It was a litany of complaints. Perhaps you could call it a Song of No's. My husband had NO job. We had NO house, like we used to. My husband had NO mother; and I had lost a dear soul who treated me like a daughter. We had NO savings because we had to sell our house at a loss. We might have NO children.

My mood went from sour, to down, to desperate. I was miserable and becoming depressed. I know I was even dragging my husband down.

Finally, my husband said to me, 'WHAT is wrong with you?!' I sang him my Song of No's. Then he erupted, "I want you to tell yourself what you DO have. Stand in front of the mirror every morning and recite what is GOOD!"

I was so mad at him for saying this to me. I thought that he was not facing our new reality. But, I decided to try his new Song of Gratitude. In a week, I am telling you, I began to feel more hopeful about our situation.

I did not have my dear mother-in-law in my life any longer, but I was so thankful to have had her in my life for so many years. We were stuffed into a small apartment, but we DID have shelter. My husband did not have a job but we never went hungry. It was so sad that our cat died, but she was over twenty years old and had lived a long and happy life.

More than a few years ago, author Sarah Ban Breathnach came up with the idea to keep a Gratitude Journal. In a little notebook, you write down every day what you are thankful for. If you face a rough day, it can be very uplifting to re-read some prior entries.

Sometimes, instead of a formal grace before dinner, my family and I go around the table and recite something good that happened that day, or something that we are grateful for. This is another great way to 'Be joyful in all ways, give thanks in all circumstances and hold onto the good."

I do not at all mean that evil in the world does not exist. Nor do I mean that everything that happens to us is completely for the good. Tragedies do occur, humans make egregious mistakes or hurt each other, the world is filled with injustice.

BUT, there is something in my soul that cannot allow the tragedy, the awful mistakes, the hurt, the injustice, the disasters to win out. If we do not hold onto all that is good, if we do not pick up the threads of joy and gratitude all around us, and weave ourselves new beginnings --what DO we have?

If we take all that is tragic and evil and unjust into our hearts, and allow it to make a home inside us and to flourish, we put out the bright flame of the Holy Spirit! Then we let the evil and tragedy and injustice win!

Lord, let me discover the tiny flame of all that is good around me and let me hold onto the good. I pray that I may be joyful in all ways, that I may give thanks in good times and in bad, and that I may always hold You close to my heart!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Burying My Talents

2011-11-13T18:38:00.000-08:00

" A man going on a journey called in his servants and entrusted his property to them. To one, he gave five talents [pieces of money], to another two talents and to another one talent, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey. The man who had received five talents went at once and put his money to work, and gained five more. So also, the one with two talents gained two more. But the one who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money."

"After a long time, the master returned and settled accounts. The man who had received the five talents brought the other five. 'Master,' he said, ' you entrusted me with five talents. See, I have gained five more.' The man with the two talents also came. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.' His master replied to each of them, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things. I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' Then, the man who had received the one talent came. 'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man. . . . So, I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground.' His master replied, ' You wicked, lazy servant!' " [Matthew 25: 14-26].

We are all born with talents, with gifts. Over time, if we are fortunate and have encouraging, supportive parents and teachers, we discover what those talents are.

I think I was about 8 years old when I wrote my first poem. My teacher asked us all to read our poems to the class. I got a favorable response. I was very proud of my poem, especially when I received an 'A' on it. I was so excited to discover something that I was good at.

In 9th grade, I was required to take a studio art class in the spring semester. At the end of the semester, the art teacher told me that I had talent and she urged me to continue taking art classes. I could not wait to run home and tell my mother that I showed promise in art. But, my mother told me, flatly, 'No! ' No daughter of hers would become an artist. (Recently, I told my son this story and he said to me, 'I'll bet you never drew your mother another picture.?!' You know what? He was right.)

You see, my parents were very old school. They were horrified at the thought of my being an artist. OR, a writer. By the time I was 15, they had my whole life planned out. They dictated what college I would attend, what I would study, what kind of graduate work I would do, what profession I would pursue, what kind of company and what kind of work I would dedicate myself to.

I was the dutiful daughter. I went to the college they dreamed of for me. I studied what they wanted me to. I pursued the graduate studies that they prescribed. I landed a job at the company where they wanted me to work, in the department they decided that I would work in. And I was miserable.

My gifts had became harnessed to my parents' conception of who I was. I was living their life, not mine. I tamed my writing, I "dumbed it down". My writing became essays in college, in the subjects that my family wanted me to study. I did stellar research in the graduate school they wanted me to attend. I domesticated my writing. I wrote lovely thank you notes for gifts received. I wrote epathetic sympathy notes. I "professionalized" my writing. I wrote clear and concise memos when I worked in an office.

My art became "dumbed down" too. I made beautiful flower arrangements. I doodled while in class or in office meetings. I designed my own Christmas ornaments. I decorated my apartment, then later my house.

I tried mightily not to allow my gifts to flow freely in whatever direction they might take me. I buried my talents. If someone noticed how well I could write, I sheepishly said that my writing was "useful". If someone noticed how artistic I was, I minimized my creative ability. I even denied it.

For years, in my parents' home, I was not allowed to exercise my gifts. Their admonition, "You cannot", became a fear that I could not.

So often, our fear of taking a risk holds us back from our gifts!

Then, the fear becomes self-fulfilling and we quit even trying. The fear becomes self doubt. We do not just fear exploring our gifts, we start to believe that we do not have the gift or talent at all. We lose our sense of self.

After some time, I started to feel guilty about not using my gifts more. But the gifts seemed too long ago and far away. Were they merely childish dreams? Were my gifts even real?

Then, I got to thinking, our gifts are given to us by God! What if someone Very Special in your life gave you an amazing gift? Would you bury it? Would you run away from it? Would you doubt that it was even for you? Would you forget about it, or fear that it was not even real?

If you did bury the gift, or doubt it, or fear it, or disbelieve it, HOW would that Very Special Someone feel? I bet that if we all regarded our gifts in that way, God would come to see us as asleep. Or timid. Or lazy. Or even ungrateful for what He has given.

It still takes tremendous effort to allow myself my God-given gifts. I spent so many years having been denied my gifts. Then, that was followed by a long period when I denied MYSELF my gifts. (Did I think that I did not deserve my gifts?)

I write now --and I write to each of you, with great love. I try to write openly, but humbly, about my life. I always aim to tell the Truth-- about my mistakes, about my successes and even more, about God.

I am also drawing again. I admit that when I gaze at that blank piece of paper, I get scared. I think, 'I cannot do this. I should not do this. Maybe I do not have what it takes. Maybe I am fooling myself.' But I light a candle (I am told that when you light a candle, the Holy Spirit is present.) And once I make a line or two on the paper, I can begin to draw again. Like I used to.

No, you cannot deny your gifts. You cannot bury them. You can try, like I did, to suppress them or dumb them down. But they do not go away. They are always there, like God, waiting for your acceptance, for your embrace, for your joy in their delight. They come from God.

The way I see it, if you cannot exercise your gifts for yourself, then give them to God. Let Him hold you close, as you take the risk to unleash your talents to the world. He will take you as far as He wants you to go.

If you do not accept and embrace your gifts, God will think that you do not love the gifts which you have been given. And he will think that you do not love and appreciate Him!

Lord, let me not ignore or bury my talents; but let me always offer my gifts up to You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Ready For God

2011-11-08T07:50:00.000-08:00

Jesus tells the following parable: " The kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. The wise, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep. At midnight, the cry rang out: 'Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!' Then all the virgins woke up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.' 'No,' they replied, ' there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to market and buy some for yourselves.' The virgins who were ready went in with [the bridegroom] to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut. Later the others also came. 'Sir, Sir', they said, 'Open the door for us!' But he replied, 'I tell you the truth, I do not know you.' Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know the day or the hour." [Matthew 25: 1- 14].

This parable purports to tell what the kingdom of heaven is like. In this story, Jesus admonishes the careless maidens, "Stay awake!" By this truth, we are to learn that, when it comes to God's kingdom, we must be prepared.

Christians believe that we are called to be followers of Christ. We believe that in this life, we must also be awake to, and responsive to, the call of God upon us here on earth. This means working hard to utilize our gifts for the benefit of others around us. Christians also believe that, in the next life, we can follow Christ to Heaven, if we diligently seek to emulate Him. We also believe that Christ will one day come again.

That is a lot to be ready for!

I have to confess that for most of my life I was absolutely not ready. My parents took me to church, but we attended church only because it was the Right Thing To Do. My parents wanted us to be around the Right Kind of People, I think for social reasons. But attending church was not out of any faith-filled impulse, or deep desire to follow Christ, or to know God more deeply.

Just as our family roots in the church were shallow, in the same way, our roots in faith were flimsy and temporal. After I was Confirmed at age 13 and my grandmother died abruptly when I was 14, we just as abruptly stopped going to church.

All I heard growing up was criticism of people of faith. 'Churchgoers are hypocritical sinners', I was told. 'They need God more, because they are a lot less capable of taking care of themselves.' Or --'All churches want is your money', I was told, 'and the church does not "give" anything in return' --(as if church were a financial quid pro quo!) In my mind, I was conditioned to believe that Christians were greater sinners than most, desperate for a panacea, and ultimately, losers.

As I got farther and farther from church, and from other Christians, and from my faith, I began to deeply doubt. I doubted the whole rational for church. I doubted why I would need God. I doubted if God was even there?

I come from a deeply dysfunctional family. No one taught me how to pray. I sort of raised myself, putting myself down for naps if no one else would, eating more food in the school cafeteria if I was not fed enough at home. I was raised to believe that God is not necessary, or maybe not even real, so therefore, you take care of your own needs. It all seemed sort of overwhelming to me, since I had no responsible adults in my life, and I did not even know that God was there for me whenever I needed Him. It did not occur to me that even if I was abandoned by humans, I was not alone.

And so when I left home at 18 to go to college, and then went even farther away for graduate school, I was totally unprepared for life! I did not trust others to help me and I did not have God in my life either.

My course of study in graduate school was dictated by, and paid for, by my parents. I found myself at the end of the first semester falling into despair. I was not utilizing my natural gifts, I was wedged into
someone else's conception of who I was.

One night, I was studying late into the night for exams. I took a break from my studies and reflected. Here I was, studying for a profession I had no interest in, alone in a far away city and all I felt was alone and misunderstood. Who was I? And what was I doing there, working so hard for something I hated ?

Then the most incredible thing happened. I had not at all conceived of my feelings of despair as a kind of prayer. But God must have heard me, because suddenly I felt the most strong, peaceful, vibrant Presence around me. It was a quietude that filled the room.

But I was confused and scared. I had never felt anything like this. I admit that I was sipping a bit of beer to calm myself down, so I could sleep before my exam the next morning. Was I punchy? Was I so totally stressed that I was having a hallucination? Was I going crazy? I was kind of spooked by the whole thing, so I decided not to tell anyone. Then, as the years went by, I forgot all about it. You could even say that I repressed it.

Recently, the memory of this mystical event came back to me. Today, I fully believe that God was present at that moment, showing me something akin to "Be still and know that I am". But I was so ignorant, so totally removed from a life of faith, that I did not even recognize God when He came to me, to comfort me!

So-- how does one prepare for God, and for Jesus? How will YOU recognize Him when He comes?

I am no expert, but I can tell you what I have done. Since that desperate time, I have gotten married, to a Christian man. We attend church regularly. You could say that I am "in community" with fellow Christians. My fellow parishioners give me context and perspective. They explain things.

I also pay attention to God. Instead of God coming to me almost unbidden at my desperate time, I am reaching out to Him in prayer. I am reminded of a sweet little song that my son was taught in Bible camp. Its refrain is, "I am a friend of God, I am a friend of God, He calls me friend." You cannot keep God in your life, as a friend, if you do not talk to Him, tell Him your troubles, thank Him for the blessings that you do have. So I pray regularly, every morning for 15-20 minutes in silence, and then throughout the day as things come up.

I also read Scripture. I never even owned a Bible until I was grown, married and a mother! I do not pretend to understand all of it. I am not a theologian or a Biblical scholar. To help me in delving into Scripture, I joined a Bible Study group at my church. I am still learning, still growing as a Christian!

Now, I am starting to get bolder as a Christian. I am trying to get out of survivor mode, and beginning to reach out to use my gifts in order to help others.

I am not a perfect Christian, but I am readying my lamp, to be a light to others, and to call God into my life! I pray that you will find ways to be ready for God, too, and to recognize and fully appreciate His presence in your life.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

My Favorite Saint

2011-11-05T18:13:00.000-07:00

November 1, 2011

All Saints' Day is November 1 in the Western Christian church. It is a day on which we celebrate the lives of all the Saints.

Recently, in my Bible Study Class, someone asked, 'Who is your favorite Saint?' As we all spoke in turn around the table, I had an answer ready before it was my turn to speak. Others said, looking sort of stricken, "You mean, I'm supposed to have a favorite Saint?"

Have the lives of the Saints become archaic, irrelevant? Does anyone even study the Saints any longer?

My favorite Saint, hands down, is St. Paul. You see, I am a convert to Catholicism. During the conversion process, I was assigned to read The Conversion of Paul [ See The Conversion of Saul, Acts 9: 1-22]:

According to this story, "Saul was breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. . . . As he neared Demascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him: 'Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?' 'Who are you, Lord?', Saul asked. 'I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,' he replied. 'Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.' Saul got up from the ground but when he opened his eyes, he could see nothing. For three days, he was blind and did not eat or drink anything."

When I first read this account during my conversion, memories of all my difficult years, growing up in a house of no faith, came rushing back. Growing up, I was taken to church until I received First Holy Communion at age 14. Thereafter, I asked to go to church, but was told no. My ideas to give to charity, or be tolerant of others who were different, were mocked. At times, I went hungry and I was cold. I was verbally abused and sometimes physically abused. I have been the victim of a violent crime and was left to deal with it alone. I married a Catholic but the wedding became a big fight, and the marriage was barely recognized, my husband barely acknowledged. But, I never gave up on God, nor on my faith in Him!

During my conversion, it was suggested that I meditate upon the image of Jesus, But when I tried to do this, I could "see" Jesus's robes, his hair and even his beard, but hard as I tried, I could not see His face. I was as thunderstruck by my past persecution, and as blind to the Lord, as Paul. I felt all the pain of my past, bound up inextricably with all the pain that Saul, (who became St. Paul), suffered.

During Saul's conversion, the Lord called upon a disciple, Ananais: "Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name."

In fact, Paul did suffer. He even boasts about it. In 2 Corinthians 11: 23-27and 12: 10, Paul says: "I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I have received forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea. I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen ; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea, and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Who is weak and I do not feel weak?. . . .Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses. That is why I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong!"

How much would You willingly and gracefully suffer for your faith?

Are there any Saints today? I wonder. . . . All Saints Day celebrates all saints, known and unknown. Perhaps there are more contemporary Saints than we realize. More persecution than we realize, that is not even reported. More people who have a steely bond with God, than we even notice.

The lives of the Saints inspire me deeply because I can see in their experiences all that they have suffered for me, in order that MY faith in God and MY belief in the Way can flourish today.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The Humble Shall Be Exalted

2011-11-04T18:47:00.000-07:00

October 30

" Jesus said to the crowds and to His disciples: ' Do not do what the teachers of the law and the Pharisees do, for they do not practice what they preach. They impose heavy burdens and put them on men's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them. Everything they do is done for men to see. They make their phylacteries [Scripture boxes] wide and the tassels on their garments long; they love the place of honor at banquets . . . . they love to be greeted in the marketplaces and to have men call them 'Rabbi'. But you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth 'father' for you have but one Father and He is in heaven. The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." [Matthew 23: 1-12].

Jesus is a radical teacher, isn't He. He declares that those who are humble will be exalted. But whoever exalts himself, on this earth, will be humbled.

Have you ever known anyone --perhaps a boss-- who lays down rules that he does not follow? He is a miserable, rotten individual. He expects exceptional work on his employees' part, but he liberally excuses his own errors. He expects perfect attendance on his employees' part but he routinely arrives late to work and leaves early. He expects an exemplary work ethic and attitude towards others from his employees, but he acts out angrily when things do not go exactly his way. He pounds his desk and yells over the phone at his lower level employees but he expects everyone else to show him utmost respect. He is very proud of his title and status but he treats everyone else like servants.

If anyone asks him about how his weekend went, he boasts about his many charitable works. He makes a big deal about his front-and-center seating at a gala charity event and about the many high profile people he knows. And yet, it seems that many do not want to be seen with him; in fact, employees often skip meetings which he grandiosely attends. He is ungenerous, unkind and not at all humble.

This is the kind of person whom Jesus describes in this Scripture. This kind of person is not just an ancient character out of the Bible. Sadly, many of us have met someone like this in our everyday, modern lives.

And we become infuriated that this kind of person seems to be succeeding in this world. WHY, we ask angrily, is this person so exalted?

Actually, Jesus is telling us that this kind of person is exalted-- only in his own mind.

In Jesus' book, it is the humble person who is exalted in the end. This is a radical kind of thinking!

The humble person, whom Jesus is talking about, sees a need and quietly fills it. She would be horrified to be in the limelight for this sort of contribution. High profile praise is not what she seeks, nor is this what motivates her. She is the co-worker who always stays late to finish up a project-- and without complaint. She is the mom who takes care of her mother and mother-in-law, while also cleaning her home, maintaining her garden, cooking dinner every night, tutoring children, volunteering at her children's school, helping out at the church pasta supper, contributing home baked cookies at the bake sale, minding the neighbors' houses while they are away, and accomplishing all of this with a smile and a sense of humor. But she is so quiet and unassuming about it, most people only notice what gets done, they do not particularly notice who did it.

Which kind of person do you want to be?

I want to be the woman of substance, who is quiet, unassuming, humble, loving and cheerful. I want to be the kind of Christian who serves because I have something to offer that helps another; not because I want others to notice and praise me, or shower high compliments upon me.

Even if no other person on earth notices what I have done, God notices, and I hope that He is pleased.

Lord, may I serve You humbly and lovingly, by serving others. May I always find my reward in pleasing only You, my Only Father!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Deadly Punishment

2011-10-26T07:50:00.000-07:00

"See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. . . If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? . . . In the same way, your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost." [Matthew 18: 10-14].

I was in law school several years ago. There was a Legal Aid clinic in the law school. Students could volunteer there for academic credit. One of the guys I knew was helping to represent a man accused of a horrific murder.

I asked this other student: "HOW could you represent a man like that?" He said, "This man is up for the death penalty. I would rather save one man from deadly punishment, and let others accused of lesser crimes receive a penalty of life in prison." I realized that this student was trying to save the one lost sheep.

I asked, "But HOW can you draft legal arguments in favor of a man accused of murder?" He replied, "We are all innocent until proven guilty in this country. Everyone has the right to a vigorous defense. Besides, Maybe he IS guilty? I say, What if he is innocent?"

Later, in the early 1990's, the Innocence Project was born with well respected defense attorney Barry Scheck, in conjunction with the Benjamin Cardozo School of Law at Yeshiva University. With the advent, and legal acceptance of, DNA testing, suddenly there were men being set free from death row, who were there for crimes they did not commit. I began to deeply doubt the justice of the death penalty.

Then, a few months ago, there was an article in the New York Times [August 29, 2011], describing "decades of research demonstrating that traditional eyewitness identification and procedures are flawed, and can send innocent people to prison." And yet, in so many court cases this inherently flawed "eyewitness evidence" is the heart of the case!

This so-called "eyewitness testimony" was recently the center of a Georgia case against an African American man, Troy Davis, who was tried for murder. Troy Davis admitted that he was at or near the scene of the crime that night. BUT there was no weapon found, there was no DNA evidence linking Mr. Davis to the crime. And yet, Mr. Davis was executed by the State of Georgia. Belatedly, seven out of nine the "eyewitnesses" claiming that Mr. Davis was the perpetrator later admitted that they lied, because they were threated by the real killer.

This is not only an injustice. It is an outrage! It is a shame to see an innocent man waste many years of his life in prison. It is a tragedy if he dies for a crime he did not commit.

Not only that, it is getting harder for defendants in violent criminal cases to obtain fair representation. Many defense attorneys in the worst violent criminal cases are receiving threats. This was the case in the horrific Cheshire, CT home invasion case. Walter C. Bansley III is the defense attorney for Cheshire home invasion defendant Joshua Komisarjevsky. Since agreeing to represent Komisarjevsky, Bansley has lost friends, he has lost clients, he has had bricks thrown through his law office and he has had to move his office to a secret location.

So why would any attorney take a case like this? In an article in the Hartford Courant [September 15, 2011], Bansley is quoted as saying: "Why do it? Because I think the death penalty is barbaric. When it comes to this case, Komisarjevsky doesn't deserve the death penalty and there needs to be people like us to stand up for him. I don't think as a community we should be killing anyone under any circumstances."

Don't get me wrong. I hate what the Cheshire defendants did. (I was a victim of a violent crime myself and I live with the traumatic effects every day.) And I do not think that there is any doubt that the defendants committed this crime, since they were caught fleeing from the scene. But enough people died that day in the Petit home in Cheshire. Enough.

How would imposing the death penalty in this case make us any better than what these defendants did on that day?

For a complete list of the countries still allowing capital punishment, please access the public page for this blog at www.spiritualdevotional.tumblr.com

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Love Thy Neighbor

2011-10-23T06:58:00.000-07:00

" A legal scholar tested Jesus with this question: 'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?' Jesus replied, ' You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself. All of the Law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.' ". [Matthew 22: 34- 39].

When I was a child no one hugged me or said that they loved me. I used to try to "trick" my mother into saying those precious words, "I love you." Endlessly, I asked, Mommy, do you love me?" But the words never came.

So, I took myself underground. My soul became dry and shriveled. I was not receiving the life giving words of love that everyone needs. I said nothing. I hid in my room. If I came out of my room, I tried to make no visible moves. Instead of walking, I crept around and I floated by. I wanted to be invisible. I did nothing. I said Nothing. I became Nothing.

As I grew, LOVE became the most important thing in the world to me. If a relative asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said, 'Nothing.' Things do not matter to me. Money and possessions do not define me. All I ever wanted for Christmas was to break bread together, to feel joy and love at the holiday table.

As an adult, I try to embody Love each and every day. In fact, Love IS me. You cannot separate Love from me, nor me from Love.

This is what God is like. He IS Love. And we are to love Him with all our hearts and souls and minds.

But how to do that? With God, yes, Love is a feeling. It comes about in our gratitude for everyday blessings. It comes about when we pour our hearts out to Him in prayer. It comes when we experience His joy in a gorgeous sunrise or in the smile of our child.

But for God, Love is also a verb! Love means showing our neighbor, by our actions, the same affection and esteem as we show ourselves.

When I was in first grade, I finally got a glimpse of what Love is. My first grade teacher asked me to stay after school. When she said that, my heart was pounding. What had I done wrong?! But I was not in trouble. Instead, she asked me to help decorate the class Christmas tree. I was the only one asked to help. My teacher, Miss Brownstein, was Jewish. I felt special, honored, valued. I was no longer invisible.That day, I found out what Love is!

As an Adult, Love means showing others that they have a place in the world. Love means taking some risks. Several years ago now, I found out that Love means speaking up.

I used to work in a big office building, on an open floor full of cubicles. The department was in corporate finance and we dealt with millions of dollars every day. One day, a young temporary employee came to work in our department. She was very pretty. She was beautifully dressed. I even heard that she made her own clothes. She was a martial arts master. She practiced calligraphy. Her work was impeccable. But every day, I heard gossip and criticism about her. You see, she came from China. Her English was very good but not perfect. She had an accent. She looked different.

One day, I could take the harsh talk about her no longer. I stood up at my cubicle and announced, "How would YOU like to move to China with your six year old daughter and only a few possessions; try to figure out how to rent an apartment, get a driver's license, buy food, enroll your daughter in school?Get a job in a sophisticated financial services firm and handle millions each day? I wonder if you could even do it. I wonder if you would even dare try?"

There was dead silence after I had spoken. Then, the "ringleader" of the gossip paused and told me, "Wow! I never thought of it that way!" And I never heard another bad word about this employee. Not only that, I became her friend. I learned a lot from her.

How important is Love? It is the basis of everything. Forgiveness is Love. Peace is Love. Courage to speak up is Love. Patience is Love. Exercising our gifts is gratitude for God's Love. Faith is trust in God's Love. Joy is basking in God's Love.

I have taken to telling my son, 'If you are not sure how to behave, always do the loving thing.' The loving choice is not anger, impatience, hate, bigotry, violence, or fear.

God, I love You with all my heart and with all my soul and all my mind. I pray that I may embody Your love each day, in all that I do and say.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Give to God What is God's

2011-10-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

" The Pharisees went out and laid plans to trap Jesus in his words. 'Teacher', they said, 'we know you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren't swayed by men, because you pay no attention to who they are. Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?' . . . . Jesus said to them, 'Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's.' " [Matthew 22: 15-21].

Jesus was in fact trapped here. If he said that Caesar's power should be recognized by the payment of tax, Jesus would be accused of forgetting God. If Jesus said He recognized only God's power, he could be accused of treason against Rome. How to unwind this trap?

I grew up in what was ostensibly a Christian household. Yes, we attended church. We called ourselves "Episcopalian". But, even as a small girl, I gradually came to see that this label "Episcopalian" was what we DID on Sunday mornings and not who we were inside.

My Episcopal church gave Communion on one Sunday per month. It was called "Communion Sunday". We tended to skip those Sundays. My mother thought that Communion was unsanitary: all those people touching hands to receive the host, and drinking from the same cup. Communion was a practical exercise for her, one she did not want any part of. It was not imbued with any meaning in her mind.

And yet, almost every Sunday, I heard about the central role of Communion in the Christian church.

My family would make remarks about the families who attended church regularly and actually believed "that stuff". I would hear that those who are in church more often are less capable of getting through life. Or that regular churchgoers are even hypocrites, because they are the ones who are the worst sinners.

And yet, I heard in church that Jesus died for us ALL, to save us from sin.

I would hear talk in my family about "those people", persons with a different nationality or color of skin.

And yet, as a child, I learned a song that says, "Jesus loves me, yes I know." I thought that meant, "All are welcome." Or so the hymn goes, anyway.

I would hear at home, "You have to take care of yourself first!" But in church, I heard, "It is better to give than to receive."

As you would expect --we stopped going to church right after I had received my First Communion and I had become Confirmed. I asked to keep going to church, but I was told, "We already did that." Going to church was a rite of passage, and I had already "graduated" from church. Continuing to attend church made about as much sense to my family as would returning me to high school ad infinitem, even after graduation.

As you can imagine, when I reached my teens, I was pretty confused about my faith and the role of God in my life. I thought at times that I had to choose between my parents and God! But I wanted both, I needed both. And YET -- deep inside my heart, I could recognize that my parents were wrong!

So I took my faith underground. In my family, it was unacceptable to go to church or put one's faith in God for things that I was too human to accomplish myself. So I simply stopped talking about these ideas. That does not mean that my faith went away. It simply went dormant. There were times that I wondered if my parents were right, that maybe there IS no God. But I could not bring myself to believe that.

As a young adult, if I went home for a holiday, I instinctively hid my gold cross under my collar. If my family came over to my place, I hid my Bible upstairs. I did not try to attack them for their lack of faith. I knew it would do no good. Some family members even told me point blank, "Church is a waste of time and money." How can a child fight that?

So, throughout my life, I "paid to Caesar what was owed to Caesar". I did not disrespect my parents about their faith or lack thereof. I tried as hard as I could to "honor thy father and thy mother".

I did not become them. Neither did I abandon them. When my father died abruptly a few years ago, I took my mother back. She had to go into assisted living in her last years, but I saw her almost every day. We were diametrically opposed about faith until the end of her life. She would say to me, "You do not NEED to go to church." I would gently correct her, "I cannot take care of you the way that I do without it." She never had any idea how much faith and trust in God it took to bring her back into my life and become her caregiver.

My whole life, I walked this narrow tightrope. Trying to respect my parents but striving mightily to give to God what is God's -- my faith and trust in Him, my spirit, my gifts, my soul! Some have told me that I have a steely bond with God. Given my family of origin, I have had to keep my eye fixed upon Him or I would have become totally lost.

Impossible, you say! How could you have made those distinctions as a child? But this kind of walk IS the Christian walk. It is extremely difficult. It is painful and scary. It is confusing at times, and even uncomfortable. But it is right.

Think about your own situation. Maybe you have spiritual longings, but you are in a family of little faith. Maybe you live in a place with few churches, or even in a country where religion is restricted. How do you respect your current "regime" but also remain true to the God inside you?

Iwould say, in the end, honoring those boundaries is what can make the difference between being an ordinary human being, and someone who is truly great. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "If I am stopped, this movement will not stop, because this movement IS God!" Why is he one of our greatest heroes? Because he stood up to "Caesar" and said, No more. Kill me if you have to, but I speak God's Truth.

Where is the line between God and Caesar? You may not realize it, but we walk this line every day, moment by moment. The line is in the mother telling her children, 'No, you will not watch that violent movie.' It is in your decision to fast from meat during Lent even if your friends are going out for hamburgers. It is in an employee refusing to sell a product that he finds distasteful or immoral. It is in celebrating Sundays as Family Day, even if everyone else is shopping at the mall. It is in giving God your honor, your time, your conviction.

God, I live in this world, but I belong to You! I pray to always keep You in my sight, in my heart and in my life.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Raising The Future

2011-10-12T09:18:00.000-07:00

"How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods, and sees a brother or sister in need, and yet refuses to help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." [I John 3:16-18].

October commemorates Respect Life Month. It is a month that resonates with me. You see, when I turned thirteen, my grandmother and my mother sat me down in the kitchen of my home, and as they wished me Happy Birthday, they became sort of teary eyed. They told me that I was growing up, becoming a fine young woman. And that they never thought they would see this day -- because my mother almost died in childbirth and I almost died too!

That moment changed my life. With this news, I was forced to contemplate that I might never have been born at all! On my thirteenth birthday, I felt as if I had been born all over again. I was acutely aware of what an incredible gift I had been given.

Life becomes greatly more significant and precious, when you meditate on the hypothesis that you might never have been born at all. Even the worst days of your whole life are precious, simply because you are alive!

I wish the whole world could feel that elation at being alive, and that fierce determination to make your life count and really mean something!

There is a tiny, unassuming building in my area that embodies this dedication to the preciousness of life. It is a compact, tan brick building on a residential street, the kind of building you might totally miss if you did not know it was there. It is St. Agnes Home, a residential program for expectant mothers.

Perhaps some may blame these young women for their "predicament." I hope it is because people do not always see or understand their circumstances. These women may live in overcrowded and substandard housing. They may have become estranged from any family, because of their "mistake". They may have had to interrupt their education or had to quit work because of their pregnancy.

These women are often teens with few resources. They have made the courageous decision to honor life by bringing their babies into this world. These women deserve our help, not our condemnation.

I like to call St. Agnes Home a tiny powerhouse. From the street, it looks so small, and yet, inside, there are bedrooms for 16 young women. There is a licensed daycare so that the women can go to school. There is a small school on the premises, with three classrooms and a computer room, for women who need more academic support than is offered in a community school. There are licensed RN's on staff who make sure that mother and baby are receiving the proper nutrition and health advice. There is even a thriving vegetable garden in the back yard.

So, someone may say, there are only 16 young women who are in residence. Why bother when you can help so few? To that, I say, God helps us all, one at a time. Every time a mother is rescued, her baby is rescued at the same time.

As I delved into the history of St. Agnes, I realized that they have been in existence since 1914! In their previous facility, there were 120 rooms and four stories. That adds up to hundreds of precious babies and their mothers, getting the help that they need.

Some may say, so what, you get the young mother and her baby through the first year of the baby's life, and then what?

I would like you to hear the story of Shanda. She came to the home at age 14, pregnant and scared. Her mother was abusing drugs. She was being raised by her grandmother. There were 10-12 kids in the house. When she found out that she was pregnant, she describes herself as "devastated". She was too ashamed to continue going to school. Her neighborhood was violent -- no place to raise a baby.

With the help of St. Agnes Home, she earned her high school degree. Her average in her senior year was a 4.0! She went on to college. After college, she earned her Masters in Social Work. Now she is not only supporting herself, she is able to give back and help others.

We have so many issues in our modern life: drug abuse, child abuse, poverty, terrorism, pollution, joblessness. We cannot afford to neglect the next generation. They ARE our future!

God, my life is precious. All life is precious! May I speak this with my lips, but also prove it with my love.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Many Are Invited

2011-10-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

"Many are invited but few are chosen". [Matthew 22: 14].

In this Scripture, Jesus tells a parable of a king who invites guests to a wedding feast for his son. The first set of guests refused to come. The next guests paid no attention and went off to field and business. The next guests abused the king's servants and killed them. Finally, the invitation was relayed to the streets, and any and all were welcomed to the feast. A man who came to the banquet refused to don the wedding garb that was provided, in order to clothe the guests in respect. The king becomes angry and casts him out.

It is then that the king concludes, "Many are invited but few are chosen."

When I read this parable, I am reminded that "the desire for God is written in the human heart." [Catholic Cathechism]. So why do we turn away from God's open invitation?

When I was a tiny girl, my parents took me to church. I was baptized there, I received my First Communion there. I was Confirmed in the church.

Abruptly, around the time that my grandmother died a tragic death, my parents stopped taking me to church. I was upset that they took church away. I asked to go but they refused to take me. In my child's logic, I thought that by taking church away, they could take my faith away.

I did not dare to defy my parents and walk the many miles by myself, across the busy roads through town, to my church. I also did not dare to defy my parents and ask a neighbor to take me to church.

I had physical impediments to going to church. I had spiritual impediments imposed upon me from others. The atmosphere around faith and religion were intolerant. Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God for similar reasons?

My habit of no longer going to church slowly transformed into a deep seated doubt. My parents' lack of belief settled into my spirit. Gradually, my not going to church became wondering where God was? Even wondering if there was a God? Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God out of indifference, which has grown into full fledged doubt?

When I became old enough, I left home to go to college, then to university for graduate school. I was many miles from home and miles from the religious intolerance I had lived under. I was free, theoretically, to go back to church, to explore my faith. But I was busy with friends, bogged down with trying to work for high grades, so I could become independent. Somehow, I never "got around to" finding a church. Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God because you are preoccupied with worldly things?

After college and university, I met my husband, who is Catholic. Once we met, I started going to church with him regularly. This was the first step to drawing nearer to God. Except, just as when I was a child, I thought that God resided in church, and not in my heart! I thought it was enough to attend Sunday Masses to become closer to God. I did not know that, in addition to attending Mass, I needed to attend to my spirit. Perhaps you are not closer to God because you are relying solely on the rituals of Mass?

Recently, my world fell apart. My best friend was diagnosed with cancer, my father died abruptly, I had to move my seriously ill mother near me and provide for her care. My best friend lost her battle with cancer. Then my mother-in-law died. Then my mother died. I lost sight of God. I honestly thought that He was gone. Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God because you are in such pain and confusion that you can no longer see Him?

Sometimes, we hit bottom spiritually. The only person we feel that we can cling to is God. IF we can find Him!

I felt like I was in a frightening storm and everything was upside down and backwards. I needed a Rock to cling to, I needed to feel like I could somehow right my world again. This is when I converted.

I finally chose a church and began the work of finding God again. Of reconciling myself to Him. This did not seem like a very good time at all. My mother, who was very suspicious of Christians in general and Catholics in particular, and who was with me on a daily basis, kept telling me that I did not "need to" go to church. She repeated her anti-religion litany as often as possible. Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God because those around you would criticize you and even persecute you?

I was at that time struggling to care for my ill mother, settle my father's estate, run my household, care for my husband and son. I would ask God, 'WHY now, God? Can't you see I'm a little overwhelmed?'
Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God because you cannot see the rationale for God's timing?

And, I felt such overwhelming fear, because I had not received the Eucharist since I was a young teen. I could not imagine walking down that long aisle to the altar to receive Communion. Perhaps you have not gotten closer to God out of fear.

Then I began to think, Who am I to convert now, when I am an adult ---a wife, a mother, AND a lapsed Christian? What would people think of me when all of a sudden, after so many years of sitting it out in the pew, I suddenly started going up to the altar to receive? Perhaps you have not become closer to God because you think that you are not worthy?

I have also struggled with the fact that I was not born Catholic. I asked several Catholics, How do you know if you are? The answer was, it is who you regard as your flock, your clan. I took me a while to feel that this was my spiritual home. Perhaps you are not closer to God because you are not sure if you belong?

Miraculously, God invites us ALL to his banquet. Yet, there are SO many impediments to our responding to God! Jesus says, "Few are chosen." But the reality is, few of us choose HIM.

I have passed through just about every impediment to accepting God's invitation: physical impossibility, denial by those in control of my life, doubt, busyness, over-reliance on ritual, blindness, pain, confusion, persecution, fear, lack of self worth, feelings of not belonging.

In my experience, few are chosen because this is a thick jungle of obstacles to cut through, to get to God.

But, I can tell you that, when I finally went up that long aisle to receive the Eucharist, I was in tears-- tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of acceptance. All the impossibilities, the doubts, the busyness, the empty ritual without the heart of desire, the blindness, the pain, the confusion, the fear, the persecution, the lack of self worth, the feelings that I did not belong -- all were swept away in that one moment of feeling nearer to God.

I still feel that way, every time that I receive the Eucharist. In that moment, I feel that anything preventing me from coming closer to God is swept clean, swept away.

God, I pray that You clear from my heart any fear, any doubt, any pain, any confusion, any blindness, any hurt, that can keep me from You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The God of Peace

2011-10-01T18:47:00.000-07:00

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-- think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or even seen in me -- put into practice. And the God of peace will be with you." [Philippians 4: 6-9].

I am a world class worrier. Sometimes, I say to my family, "Tell me what is wrong, so I can worry about it!" I am so good at worrying, that I sometimes worry about worrying!

Peace. Isn't this what we all want? Peace at the dinner table. Peace in our childrens' classrooms. Peace amongst our neighbors. Peace in the world. Peace in our hearts.

I want a peace so huge, so vast and all-encompassing that it is hard to even fathom. I want a sense of solitude and calm and quiet strength to envelope me. That is what God wants for all of us. That IS God, the peace that surpasses anything that we mere mortals can ever understand.

So if my days are so filled with anxiety, how can I get some of this peace in my own heart? I need to hold onto what is right and true, not what is unjust and wrong. I need to hold onto what is pure and noble, not what is lowly or violent or debased. I need to hold onto what is admirable and excellent, not what is mediocre or shoddy.

To hold onto what is right, true, pure, noble, admirable and excellent can be a battle these days. There is so much violence, injustice, sin and death in the world. This is not new; it was always so.

When I think back to my earliest days as a child, I was always in this battle.

There were times that I was called a failure, but I studied even harder and worked even more, to prove them wrong. I got all A's, I graduated with honors. I held excellence in my sight.

There were times that I was told, 'Who would marry you?' But I made sure to hold what was gentle and loving and sweet in my heart. And I DID marry.

There were times that my home was anything but quiet and peaceful. But I never returned the verbal abuse that was aimed at me. I said loving things. Or I kept silent.

If there was physical danger, I left the room. Or I left the house.

If I wasn't fed a proper dinner, I ate elsewhere, at a neighbor's or in the school cafeteria.

However ugly it may have been in that house, I brought fresh flowers in from the garden to decorate my room. I tended my mother's garden, weeding her flower beds, without her asking me. Without complaint. To counter all the ugliness, I gathered loveliness.

If I heard lies about myself, or about God from their lips, I whispered the Truth to myself, under my breath.

This is a hard battle. It has been a lifelong battle. I know that I could not do this alone.

So who has been my greatest ally? God.

Sometimes, I lose sight of God. I get close to despair at all the dark things in this world. Then I remember that I survived by thinking about and striving for what is pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy. I did not wallow in what was thrown at me. I said, 'No! I have to believe in something else! I have to rise above all this! I have to move away from this, to something purer, more right!'

And if at times, I struggle to hold all these wonderful things in my mind, in the face of such ugliness, I pray. I petition God for whatever I think I need, in order to keep my eyes on Him. I always, always begin each morning of prayer with thanksgiving for my considerable blessings. I especially give thanks for everyone I have met who shows me the face of God.

God, may I look to You for whatever is pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy, right, true, just and strong. May I always find peace in You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Changing Our Minds

2011-09-26T11:38:00.000-07:00

"A man had two sons. He went to the first son and said, 'Son, go and work today in the vineyard.' 'I will not', he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, 'I will, sir,' but he did not go. Which of the two did what his father wanted?" [Matthew 28- 31]

It is said that "It is a woman's perogative to change her mind." I actually resent this saying. It makes it sound like all women are fickle, that they are too feeble to know their own minds. It also hints at a certain level of manipulativeness on the part of women. All very unflattering views of women. And very negative connotations to the notion of changing our minds.

Or, what do we say about a politician who changes his mind on hot-button issues? We say that he is "waffling". That he is flip flopping. The latter sounds like he is a fish out of water, out of his element, even on his way to certain death. It is surely the death knell to a politician's popularity if he dares to change his mind. A politician changing his mind makes him seem weak, untrustworthy, even opportunistic.

My young son thinks that adults are fully formed and that we always know-- and do-- the right thing. Then he becomes infuriated if he sees adults parking in a No Parking Zone. Or being mean to their kids. I remind him that just because I am as tall as I will ever be, I am still growing and changing on the inside. I also tell him that when you make a mistake, it is more praiseworthy to fix it than to keep repeating the mistake.

This parable in Matthew presumes that we need to change our minds! Why?! Because we are human and sometimes, it takes a few tries to get it right. I feel blessed that God is that patient with me!

Several years ago, I changed my mind in a deep and profound way. You see, I was the victim of a violent crime. I was so beaten, my own mother did not recognize me. When I fought the attacker and he did not get his way with me, he started to strangle me. I was beginning to pass out. After the attacker mercifully left me alive but wounded, I called 911. When the police came, the officer told me that I had been within 30 seconds to a minute from death.

In the ensuing days, I was understandably in shock. But gradually over the following weeks, I realized this the attacker needed serious help. He did not need to be put to death by the state. That would be only more violence. I had almost died, I did not need to witness more death. I was in law school then and as I hung around the law school Legal Aid clinic, I came to see how shockingly often that mistakes were made in court. It was then that I changed my mind on the death penalty. If I had been asked to testify against my attacker in a penalty phase, I would have advocated against the death penalty.

Another very impressive man who changed his mind was Robert Curley. His ten year old son Jeffrey was abducted and sexually assaulted in MA in 1997. I have heard Robert Curley speak, and it is inspiring to hear him talk about how he fell into rage and despair after the death of his son; but how gradually, he realized that his anger and desire for revenge would not bring his son back. He went from advocating for the death penalty, to speaking out strongly against capital punishment.

How weak is it of us to find out the truth and to change our minds? Consider St. Paul, who called himself the unlikeliest of saints, who went from zealous persecutor to one of the most dedicated --and most persecuted--apostles for Christ. Or, consider John Newton. He began his young working life as the captain of a slave ship, witnessing and perpetuating the most vicious humiliation of his "cargo". He ended up a minister --and the author of the hymn Amazing Grace!

By what amazing grace can YOU change your mind? With what courage can YOU seek the truth and dare to speak it?

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Coming to Believe

2011-09-24T18:43:00.000-07:00

" What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work today in the vineyard.' 'I will not', he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, 'I will, sir', but he did not go. Which of the two did what his father wanted?" [Matthew 21: 28-31].

I have one son, but sometimes, I think I have two sons, he so often acts like two opposite creatures,with two minds.

Recently, I asked my son to go out and water my flowers, while I went to the market to pick up some milk for him. His answer? "No!" I was angry with him for being so disrespectful. I said, "I hope to see a better attitude when I get home!" I went to the market. When I came home, the flowers were watered.

I asked my husband, "Did YOU water the flowers for me?" My husband said, "No, our son did."

Needless to say, although I did not care for our son's initially poor attitude, I was thrilled that he came around. I praised him for his obedience.

But sometimes, I tell my son that he has played his computer games long enough and he needs to turn off the game and do his homework. What I get is, "Yess, Momm!" His tone is absent-minded. His voice is faint, not very convincing. I can tell that he is "yes-yessing" me. He has no intention of turning off the computer game. Anytime soon.

He is telling me yes, but he means no. This infuriates me. He is patronizing me, treating me like he knows better; giving me false hopes; even failing to tell the truth.

I read this Scripture and I think, how modern the Bible is. Every parent who has received a patronizing, 'Yes, mom', knows the despair at hearing this delaying tactic. How do you think God feels when we tell Him yes, but we have no intention of being obedient? Or somehow we never get around to doing it?

Which son would you rather be? As terrible as it is to say no to God, I would rather be the first son.

In fact, I have been like the first son for most of the years of my faith formation. When I was young, I buried my faith because I did not dare stand up to my family, who did not believe in church or religion.

After awhile, I had ceased attending church for so long, I almost started to believe my family's rhetoric that there was no God and that church was a waste of time, and was only for sinners.

Then I married a Christian and a Catholic. I dutifully went to church with him but never seemed to get around to converting. I was an official fence-sitter when it came to actually choosing a church and a religion.

I was a faithful church-goer without a religion for literally decades. I don't know what I was thinking, that God would just go away and leave me alone? Even my young son had conversations with me about choosing a church so I could receive the Eucharist. My sweet young son was worried about my soul, my relationship to God!

Finally, finally, after the sudden death of my father, after facing the death of my best friend and the terminal illness of my mother--- FINALLY, I went to the pastor and complained that I could no longer see God! And this is the process that brought me from the depths of despair, to conversion.

God is so generous, that He will take your no's for a very long time. He will wait for you as long as it takes; and He will accept you with joyous and loving arms when you are finally ready to say yes -- even if you are the worst sinner, even if you try to ignore Him for most of your life, even if you have serious doubts about your faith for decades.

The point is, that God loves you for making the right decision in the end. He expects us to be imperfect in our love for Him, we are human. He also expects us to change and grow over time. He ardently wishes for us to turn to Him, despite our doubts, despite our fears, despite our inability to sometimes even see that He is there. Or maybe, He desires us to turn to Him because of all these challenges!

God, I thank you for your generous love for me, even if I may doubt You, or fear becoming closer to You, or fail to appreciate Your constant devotion. Thank You for the powerful opportunity to change my mind!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Family Day

2011-09-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

"Man does not live by bread alone." [Deuteronomy 8].

In my parish, September 26 is "Family Day: A Day to Eat Dinner With Your Children." Family Day is sponsored by Columbia University's National Center On Addiction and Substance Abuse.

You think, what does eating dinner with your children have to do with substance abuse? It turns out, a lot. Families who regularly eat dinner with their children tend to raise children who do not abuse drugs, alcohol or smoke cigarettes. The simple act of a shared meal, gentle conversation, laughter and sharing of stories binds families together.

A generation ago, it was unthinkable not to have family dinnertime every night of the week. I still cook dinner every night, and my family and I eat together around the kitchen table. When people find out about that, some say to me, "You COOK?! Every night?!" I find that sad. It makes me feel like some sort of bizarre anomaly.

A generation ago, the family and the church were at the center of everyday life. Not so any longer-- and we are not necessarily the better for that.

What has become the norm today is a far different picture. Maybe the kids have too many athletic practices and games after school. "Dinner" becomes grabbing some fast food in the car on the way to the sports field. Maybe mom or dad work late most nights. Maybe the kids eat dinner in front of the TV, then retire to the computer or to electronic games, while mom and dad eat dinner separately.

Growing up, we ate dinner every night in the dining room- and no TV was allowed! If the phone rang during dinner, my mother would gripe, WHO is THAT calling during the dinner hour?!

One of the fondest memories I have is of going to my grandmother's house every week for Sunday dinner. My whole family would be there, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Grandma would serve a big dinner in the middle of the day-- a roast of some sort, some potatoes roasted with the meat, and two kinds of vegetables, plus a home made dessert. We celebrated every holiday, every anniversary, every birthday.

These were the ties that would bind us as a family. I have for the most part lost those ties. My grandparents and my parents are all gone. The rest of us have all moved far away from each other, moved on. But I miss those Sundays!

Think of that warm, happy feeling you get from Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, with all the relatives together for the day. I would posit that it is much more than the fancy meal and extravagant desserts fueling that happy feeling. A family dinner is about much more than a full belly. No, it is about the connection that we get from being with our "clan", a feeling of being part of something, of belonging to someone.

When I got married, I vowed that we would always sit down to a meal together at the end of the day. There were times early in our marriage that all we could afford were rice and beans, or canned tunafish for dinner. But every night, we would light a candle, count our blessings and break bread together.

Sometimes, my young son asks, Why do we have to eat together, at the same time? I tell him, Only wolves eat alone. He asks, Why do we have to sit at the table to eat? I tell him, Only horses eat standing up. Sharing a daily meal together is what makes us human.

It also encourages family conversation. I have been noticing lately that parents talk AT kids, not with them: "Sit down! Be quiet! Eat! Sit up straight! Stop that!" Of course, a parent's job is to teach their children by giving instruction. But addressing one's children as people in their own right, with a story to tell, or maybe even an opinion on world hunger, is extremely valuable too.

So, it turns out that this mealtime ritual does not just bring on good feelings. It is powerful medicine for the soul.

God, I do not live by bread alone. Bring me together, with those I love, for my daily meal. Give me my daily bread of food to eat, and of love from my family to feed my soul.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

The Last Shall Be First

2011-09-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

" Take your pay and go. I want to give the man who was hired last, the same as I gave you. . . .Or are you envious because I am generous? So the last will be first and the first will be last." [Matthew 20: 14-16]

In this parable, Jesus tells the story of a vineyard owner who pays hired laborers, who worked for only an hour or so, the same amount as laborers who worked all day. In the business world, this would not only be unfair, it would be an outrage! Why should a man who worked only an hour be paid the same amount as a man who struggled in the heat to work all day? If a business owner really did run his business this way, there would be a riot.

But in this parable, Jesus is not speaking of the ways of this world. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways." [Isaiah 55: 8].

This is a story of God's kingdom; and in His realm, even if you show up "a day late and a dollar short", as the saying goes, you are still welcome. I am someone who showed up at God's table after a lifetime of confusion; doubt in my faith; fear over declaring myself a Christian because I came from a house without faith; periods of ignoring God completely and hoping He would go away; and ultimately, decades of sitting on the fence over the issue of my faith.

Yet --God did NOT "go away"! He waited for me for most of my life. Even when I turned to Him again, only because my life had turned upside down and backwards, when I was overwhelmed and afraid and heartbroken, He welcomed me with open arms. You see, I am the laborer who arrived at the end of the day, still hoping to get paid by God's generosity, even though I was so very late. I thank God every day that He welcomed me-- despite my doubt, my fear, my considerable tardiness! He gives me the same amount of love and generosity as those who have believed in Him their whole lives.

Have you ever been last? Last in a very long line, and furious at those who are being served first? You just want them all to go away so you can sail to the head of the line. You are envious, aren't you? Have you ever been cut off in traffic by someone with a bigger, faster, fancier car than yours? Infuriating. Have you ever been picked last for the soccer team? Humiliating.

So you know how it feels to be last. I was last my whole life-- the baby, the daughter. I was like the "hood ornament" on the car. Maybe sort of cute, but essentially irrelevant. I was basically along for the ride. If I made a suggestion, I was cut off in mid-sentence, mocked, ignored. I had no say whatsoever in the family plans, what I proposed had no credence. I was the classic baby in the family; there are not even very many photos of me in the family album.

All that changed 3-4 years ago when my father died abruptly. It was a late spring day and I was in the kitchen when the phone rang. My father had collapsed that morning. No one was able to bring him back to life. My brother said to me: "You better come over here, we have some decisions to make."

The whole drive to my parents' home, the place where I grew up, honestly, I thought, "Why is he asking ME what to do ?"

I got to the village where I grew up and I went home. I suddenly found myself in charge! My mother wanted ME to call the family attorney, her relatives, the neighbors. She and my brother looked to ME to make decisions regarding the funeral arrangements, the readings for the service, the flowers, the food to be arranged. Relatives from the old country, where my father grew up, called and wanted to know if I would still be coming home that summer to host the annual family reunion, as my father had done before me.

Clearly my father's mantle had passed --to ME! I was overwhelmed by all this attention and respect that I was suddenly receiving. I was not used to getting this much credence when I spoke. Over the years of being forgotten and neglected, I had gone quiet. I had convinced myself that I was invisible. Sometimes I wondered-- if no one seemed to notice me, did I even exist? Why was I here?

This sudden status did not go away even after my father's funeral. I was tapped to take care of my father's estate, to devise a plan for our mother's care, to sell her house, to manage her finances. The reality of my new role started to get to me. I began to realize that I had power. This was an honor, a privilege. More than that, it was a responsibility.

I had never been first before, not in my whole life. I prayed to be able to use my power wisely, gently, humbly. I even consulted with my spiritual director. I asked, 'Is this a case of "The Last shall be First?" Can God DO that?!' The answer came. Yes, God can turn your life around completely in an instant. You can be first!

I had waited a very long time to have a place at my family's table. In the same way, I began to see that God had waited a very long time for me. And I had waited a very long time for Him. I came to my conversion fearing that God was gone. But that was not so. It's just that for so many years, I was too confused and fearful and doubtful to see that He had been there all along, waiting for me to come to His vineyard!

If you are Last, you can be first. God can see to that. If you are First, you can also be Last, sometime. Either way, it is humbling. Either way, you need God!

God, You waited patiently for me, though I strayed far. Even if I am late in coming to your table, to your vineyard, You lift me into your arms, You welcome me into your Kingdom.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Holy Cross

2011-09-15T19:06:00.000-07:00

Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." [Matthew 16: 24]

September 14 is the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. The story is told that St. Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine, found what was supposed to be Christ's tomb under the Temple of Aphrodite. During construction of a Basilica at that site, three crosses were found. When a dying woman touched one of the crosses, she was healed. It was then believed that Christ's cross had been found.This date celebrates the dedication of that Basilica.

According to American Catholic.org, the cross was not necessarily a revered object in the early church. For early Christians, the cross was actually an object to be feared. The cross represented the ultimate punishment for being a Christian, in defiance of Rome -- it represented crucifixion.

I remember this fear somewhat myself. You see, it was unacceptable to be Catholic in my home. Never mind that my Irish Nana had been Catholic -- before she married my Protestant grandfather. In my home, to be Catholic was to be a recent immigrant. It meant blindly following the Catholic commandments; this was considered gullible, even dangerous, because it represented a lack of independent thought. Or so my family believed.

When I was 14, after my grandparents died, I was no longer taken to church. I wanted to go to church and I tried to ask, but I was told, No.

Many years later, I met the man who would be my husband. I think I fell for him first and then, I found out that he was Catholic. To talk to my family, they thought I was being defiant. I was not, I simply fell in love with this man who happened to be Catholic.

On one occasion, for a beautiful gift, he gave me a gold cross pendant. I still have it and I still wear it. The cross is tiny and delicate. It looks ethereal because it is perforated through, so that it appears to float.

I used to wear this cross all the time to gatherings at my family's home. But in their presence, I would hide the cross under my shirt. The cross then, became my secret symbol of faith. You could say it was the defiance of my faith. A hidden rebellion. They could take away church, they could object to my Catholic husband, but they could not take away my faith!

This business of the hidden cross is really nothing new. It reminds me of my Scottish ancestors in the 1700's after the Battle of Culloden. It was a rout, with the British decimating a vast majority of the Scots in battle. Scotland's overt bid for independence from the English crown came to a violent end. After Culloden, the British even banned the Scottish clans from wearing their "colors", i.e., their tartans. It was thought that the wearing of the tartans would give the clans too much continued solidarity. The British wanted to break up the clans, to dilute or eliminate their power.

So the tartans simply went underground. The clans wore their colors as a sash, which got them in trouble. Then they wore their colors as a tassel, which got them in trouble. Finally they wore their colors as a tiny fringe on their belts. You could ban the tartans, but you could not keep the Scots down.

Throughout history, Christians have been mocked, banned, persecuted, crucified. But the cross remains a symbol of our enduring faith.

To what extent would you, as a Christian under duress, protect your faith? Would you hide your Bible in a secret place? I did. Would you wear your cross under your clothes? I did. Would you sneak off to church and tell others simply that you were "out"? I did. Would you listen to bad advice that it is better to think of yourself over others, to keep as much money for yourself as you can, to distrust people of faith -- then go out and strive as hard as you might to be a better person. To be a Christian? I did.

God, may my faith burn brightly from within. May I wear my cross boldly and proudly as a symbol of that faith.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

September 11

2011-09-10T12:42:00.000-07:00

" In the last days, nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war any more. Every man will sit under his own vine and under his own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid. All the nations may walk in the name of their gods." [Micah 4: 3]

Where were YOU on September 11, 2001? This is the question on everyone's lips lately.

In a previous generation, people would ask each other, "Where were you when President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed?" In the generation before that, people would ask each other, "Where were you when Pearl Harbor was bombed?"

On that now infamous day of 9/11/01, I was at home with my young son, who was a baby then. I had just brought him upstairs after breakfast. It was what I call a "blue and gold day", the sunshine radiating brightly, permeating the clear air, the sky as brilliant as a precious blue jewel. It was the kind of day, as my grandfather would have said, that made you glad to be alive.

It was only a few minutes before nine a.m. I was in my bedroom with the baby. The house was silent.
Suddenly the phone rang, piercing the stillness. I picked it up. It was my husband. He did not even say hello, just, "Are you watching this?" I asked what did he mean? He said, "You better turn on the TV!"

My husband and I had met in New York. We had worked in Manhattan and lived there for a few years. New York City had become our home town. I turned on the television in time to see the first plane hit the tower. The plane looked tiny compared to the massive size of the twin towers. I made a joke about King Kong and small planes flying into the Empire State Building. It turns out, a very bad joke.

In fact, many years earlier, I had flown into New York at night and the plane was so close to The World Trade Center, I thought, How easy it would be for a plane to hit the towers. No matter all the lights on top of the towers, why did we have to build such tall skyscrapers? Wasn't that dangerous?

Just at that moment, the baby tumbled off the bed onto the soft carpet. I gasped. As I picked him up, he started to cry. I comforted him. He was alright. The real crisis was on the television screen.

Then the second plane hit. I did not know what to think. we saw footage of the Pentagon on fire and the thirs plane crashing in Shanksville, PA.

All sorts of things went through my mind-- this cannot be an accident if a second plane-- and then a third plane-- has hit so close in time to the first. Then, my God, I could have been in or near those towers; I used to commute through the World Trade Center stations when I lived in NYC! I would have been on the lower level at exactly 8:45 a.m.!

I could not watch, but I also could not turn my attention away from what was unfolding. I saw firefighters running into the building, fully loaded with gear. I thought frantically, "NO! Don't do it! Don't go in there! You will be trapped!"

I had to shut off the television. I wanted to escape the violent images. I dressed the baby and took him outside into that beautiful day. The weather was surreally beautiful. I thought, ironically, "This is the day that the Lord has made.!' I thought that being outside would comfort me. I love nature and I love how all of the natural world manifests God's majesty and glory. That day, the glory and majesty of my surroundings seemed a dreadful mockery. Worse yet, there was absolutely no one out and about. I would receive no comfort in going outside into the world. There was no one there.

There were no cars on the road. No people walking their dogs, jogging, gardening in their yards. All was deathly still. It was as if someone had declared a solemn national holiday but I was the only one going about the day-- or trying to.

It did not matter where I was, inside or outside. Anywhere I went, I felt a sick knot in the pit of my stomach. This was how I had felt when I came home at age 14 and no one was home and I realized something had gone awfully wrong; when my mother came in and told me that her mother had died suddenly. It is that sick feeling you get when your world is abruptly and violently turned upside down.

Must each generation ask itself such gut wrenching questions: Where were you on this infamous date?

My young son is becoming more and more aware of the world, especially in this global era of ours. He asks, 'Why do the English and Irish have to hate each other? Why do the Japanese and the Chinese not get along? Why are the Turks and the Greeks not friends?'

These questions break my heart. I do not have any answers. I can only tell him,'I think it is because they do not understand each other.' My son replies, 'I am going to grow up to be an ambassador and teach these people about each other. Then they will not hate each other any longer, and there will be peace.'

In the aftermath of the attacks, my young nephew asked his mother, "Mom, why do they hate us?!"

So now my heart breaks AND I am also ashamed. A child is teaching us what it takes to bring nations together, so that "nation will not take up sword against nation nor will they train for war anymore." In the aftermath of 9/11, we have had only more war, the war that is now the longest in our nation's history. From my son's perspective, we have been at war as long as he can remember.

What does it take for there to be peace in the world? The antidotes to war and fear are not just peace and courage. No, the antidotes to war and fear are love and knowledge.

Where was the love that awful day of September 11, 2001? Certainly not in the multiple attacks on our nation.

Yet --I saw the love in the brave firefighters entering the towers to try to save as many people as possible. I saw the love in the passengers of Flight 93 that came down in a field in PA, choosing to sacrifice their own lives rather than seeing their plane being used as a weapon. I saw the love in the French newspaper Le Monde headline: "Nous sommes tous Americains" [We are all Americans]. I saw the love in the response of the people of Halifax, Canada, where most North American flights were diverted that day; the Nova Scotians opened their schools, their churches, even their homes to stranded passengers. I saw the love in the experience of a friend staying in Europe at the time; everywhere she went, Europeans came up to express their condolescences.
"May all nations walk in the name of their gods and may no one make them afraid." May we all be one people and love one another deeply.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Forgiveness

2011-09-08T13:29:00.000-07:00

" Peter came to Jesus and asked, 'Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?' Jesus answered 'I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.. . . The kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. . . .A man who owed him a huge sum was brought to him. Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt. The servant fell to his knees before him. 'Be patient with me', he begged, 'and I will pay back everything.' The servant's master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go. But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a tiny sum. He grabbed him and began to choke him. 'Pay back what you owe me!', he demanded. His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, 'Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.' But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could repay the debt. Then the master called his servant in, 'You wicked servant', he said,'I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn't you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?' [Matthew 18: 21-32]

This parable reminds me of the time several years ago, when a young mother came to my mother for advice. The young mother asked, "How many times must I teach my child the right way, must I remind him of what to do, must I forgive him his mistakes, must I correct him and send him on his way again? Five times? Five hundred times?" Clearly this young mother was very frustrated with repeating herself to her son, so many times a day. It seemed like she was getting nowhere with him. She was irritated and even a bit angry at her child for all his young mistakes. How many times was she going to have to forgive him for his errors and start all over again with the same advice?

My mother replied, "Five hundred times. Then five hundred times again. As many times as it takes."

Forgiveness is patience. It is compassion.. the ability to see things from the other person's perspective. It is the discernment of our frailty as humans, our imperfections, our very human-ness. In the end, it is love!

None of us is perfect. How many times have I gotten myself overtired and overwhelmed, and I have spoken angrily, to my mother, to my husband, to my son? Even to God? How many times have I begun to slip into gossip, erroneously believing that, by their sins, the other person "deserved" to be talked about? How many times have I made mistakes but begun to fall into the trap of blaming others? I think of times that I stopped speaking to good friends for some time, just because I did not like their advice. I think of times that I felt I was so overburdened that I lost myself in my work, when truly, it was more important to give my husband and son the attention they needed? How many times have I complained bitterly to God about what I do not have, rather than being deeply grateful for what I do have?

I hate myself when I sin. I want to be perfect! Maybe I need to start by forgiving myself, then picking myself up and trying again. Because, the truth is, a central part of the human condition is to make mistakes, to hurt others, whether intentionally or untentionally. If I begin by acknowledging my errors and allowing myself the humility of my mistakes, I can seek forgiveness and begin again.

For those mistakes, we all desire to be forgiven. We want to be given another chance to do better next time, without having to bear harsh consequences, without having to lose friends or be put to shame.

Recently, I went to the market to buy food for the week. In my market, there is a special line at the cashier for customers who have only a few items. I had well over the allowed 12-15 items in my cart. By mistake, I got into the express line at the market.

I was not paying attention to the sign. I was in a mental fog. My father had died a couple of years earlier, followed by my best friend, then my mother-in-law, then my mother. After so many deaths over a 2 year period, I was reeling. To make matters worse, many traumatic memories were coming back from my past. Then, my physical health had begun to suffer. Some days, I barely knew what day it was. I was a mess. I was just trying to get through each day, one day at a time.

While I was in this line, I heard another customer grumbling about how, 'Some people do not know what line they belong in.' The cashier was also making disparaging remarks about me. Once I realized my error, I flushed bright red and slunk to another line, muttering that I was having a bad day.

Where was the forgiveness? Where was the benefit of the doubt, that what line I had chosen was an error, not an intentional move to cut in front of others? I wondered, couldn't people have the empathy to realize that sometimes, those who make mistakes are undergoing a difficult time; they need compassion, not excoriation.

I get angry and in despair when others sin against me. Don't we all truly desire the mercy of others? We all want the chance to ask for patience, and to receive forgiveness. This experience made me more determined than ever to show compassion to others. I need to keep working on forgiving others, if I want a more loving world.

This Scripture says that to receive forgiveness, one must grant forgiveness. This is not some quid pro quo formula, where I will grant forgiveness only if I receive it. It is a recognition of reality: we are all frail, we all make mistakes. The only way for this crazy world to survive is for us to show each other the compassion to forgive.

I want the world to be perfect, without sin. But, in my best moments, I can see that this, perhaps unrealistic, desire for perfection is really a deep longing for God! If we forgive, God loves us for helping to create a loving world. And He forgives US!

God, I pray that in my human frailty, You will forgive me. Please shower Your mercy on me, even as I seek to forgive and to love others.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

This is patience. This is forgiveness.

Labor Day

2011-09-06T06:29:00.000-07:00

"Come to me all you who labor and are weary and I will give you rest." [Matthew 11: 28]

Labor Day in the United States was established in 1884, as the first Monday in September. It is a day to celebrate our work, the labors that have made the country what it is.

I began working at the age of 13. I started a babysitting business in my neighborhood. My husband, when he was a boy, began working at age 14. He delivered newspapers in his neighborhood.

I tell my young son these stories and he is astonished. He is getting closer to the age when my husband and I began working, and he wonders, will we put him to work too? And his young mind cannot fathom that anyone would want to "celebrate" work. No, our young son would rather spend as much time as he can relaxing.

Since when did work become a dirty word? Have you ever put in a good day's work, perhaps planting a garden, or painting a room, or helping someone to move? At the end of the day, did you feel tired, and sore, but you said that it was a "good tired'?

That good feeling, for me, comes from doing something useful, something that betters my environment.

This is how God wants us to see our work. Our labor betters our world. Our work is even a calling, a vocation.

When I became a mother and I quit my full time job in an office, to stay home with my son, I began describing myself as "only a mother". I felt that I was on the sidelines, not contributing to anyone or anything. I was not earning any money, I was not contributing to the workings of society.

I used to complain to a good friend that I wondered what my purpose was? As if God had some miraculous master plan for me-- only He was not telling me. Why was God keeping me at home, "doing nothing"?

Then my friend replied, Maybe it is your purpose, God's calling, to raise your child well.

I got angry with her for awhile. That's not good enough!, I protested silently.

Over time, I realized that there is no more satisfying, nor more important job than being a mother. It is one of the hardest jobs I have ever done, but it is an essential job. In fact, I hold my son's future in my hands. If all of us mothers raised our children well, what a wonderful world we could have!

I had been resenting my role, getting irritated at my husband and my son for all the work I had to do. I had been complaining about all the chores that I had to accomplish, how overworked I was, how I never got to sit down for a moment's rest, how no one appreciated what I did, how I was not even getting paid for my work.. blah,blah, blah!

Then, gradually, my friend's words began to sink in. Motherhood was not drudgery, not useless labor. It is a calling, a vocation. I began to try to see what I do every day as a holy and sacred ministry.

Over time, my attitude began to change. Now, as I wash the clothes, run to the market, make meals, clean the house, make sure my son's homework is done and get my son to school on time, I think THIS is important. My vocation of being a mother is offered up to God as a sort of prayer. I am more in the moment and I no longer resent what I was called to do. My labors have become like a sacrament.

And then I got to thinking, if mothers are often sacrificing all for their children, but all too often invisible, how many other workers are invisible? How many more of us think that our work does not matter?

So here is another radical concept from God. Not only is our work to be celebrated; everyone's work is important!

This means that the janitor who cleans the office building is as important as the President of the company. It means that the clerk in the store is as important as the man who owns the store.

Why? Because we are all sons and daughters of God and we all have gifts to offer to our world. I make it a point, wherever I go, to really see the invisible people in our society: the store clerk, the doorman, the delivery man, the office receptionist. These all are human beings, not human resources! When these hard working folks help me, I am grateful for what they have done, I smile, I say thank you, I make friendly conversation. I think, isn't this what we all want? To really be seen?

God, this Labor Day, I celebrate in thanksgiving the gifts and the work that you have given me. I offer my talents and my labor up to the world-- and to You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Confronting Sin

2011-09-03T08:21:00.000-07:00

" If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector." [Matthew 18: 15-17]

I hate sin. Sometimes I wonder, if everyone had a bumper sticker on their vehicle, or a sign by their front door saying, "I hate sin", would it banish sin forever? Somehow I do not think this would work, but I sure wish it would!

I hate sinfulness in myself. I hate it when I get angry, impatient, selfish etc. I actually get mad at myself for these errors. But I work hard to forgive myself. I do not think that God made us to condemn ourselves. He only wants us to learn and grow, not fall into depair.

I hate to see sin in others. I do not judge others for their sins, so much as I wish that the sin and suffering had never happened at all!

A young man is in emotional pain or perhaps he merely suffers the recklessness of youth. He goes out drinking, and in the darkness of night, he falls, in his incoherence, into the road. A speeding car or truck hits him and he suffers trauma. I cannot even get to the point of blaming the young man for his drinking or judging the driver of the vehicle for proceeding recklessly. I am sick at heart that this has occurred at all.

A young father cannot get steady work. His wife is pregnant with yet another baby. The father becomes ashamed that he cannot support his family, and extremely anxious about their financial future. Will they have food to eat and a place to live? He begins to yell at his family and even hit his wife and children. I am sick at heart that this has occurred at all.

I believe that when we sin, and we suffer for our sin, God cries. He mourns for us because He hates to see any of His children hurt.

When I was a child, others sinned against me. If I was cold, I was denied a sweater; I was told I was just trying to get attention. When I was hungry, I was not given something to eat; this was not out of poverty, it was out of spite. I was told I was a failure, I was called names and I was physically hit.

As a child, I could not confront sin. I was tiny and dependent. If I confronted the abuse, the backlash would have been much worse. I was also afraid to tell anyone, for the same reason. And so I "hid". I hid in my room, I stopped speaking. I became invisible. I would leave the house, but the neighborhood kids would torment me with name calling as well. There was nowhere to hide.

I learned that sin is inescapable. This is a sad lesson for a young child to learn.

Currently, I am reading a book called The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything/ A Spirituality for Real Life by James Martin, SJ. In his book, Fr. Martin describes three approaches to sin and suffering that do NOT work: Accommodation, Annihilation and Abandonment.

When I was very young, I saw and felt the suffering that sin brings. I could not accommodate it. That is, I could not excuse it, or justify it or even attempt a watered down version of sin myself. I saw sin as the Enemy even then. I could discern even at such a young age that accommodation easily leads to becoming sinful in one's own right.

Neither could I annihilate the sin. I was the baby in the family, the daughter. I had no power. If I rejected the sinners in my life by brutally attacking them, I would be injured further by them. And would I be any less a sinner myself if I lashed out?

For some reason, even as I became an adult, neither could I abandon my family. I did not have to like their sins ( accommodate), I did not have to decimate my family with vitriolic hate (annihilate). But when my mother became elderly and bereft after the death of my father, I did not have it in my heart to abandon her. In fact, I brought her to live near me, and I cared for her until the end of her days.

In the Scripture in Matthew 18, we are asked as adult Christians, in the company of two or three companions, to confront sin in others. I see this as an act of love, not as an act of rejection or condemnation. We all need some good advice, some redirection, some clearer perspective from time to time. In essence, we all need to be rescued, to be saved. In other words, as Christians, out of Love, we are responsible for each other!

If our loving advice does not work, we are asked to bring the sinner to church. This could be as simple as quoting Scripture, or lending a book, or saying a prayer over the person.

And if the sinner in our life does not listen? Then we are counseled to walk away. This saves us from an ugly confrontation (annihilation). It also saves us from becoming so involved that we begin to accommodate the sin, to take it on. I did walk away as a child. I escaped to save myself. I hid, I left the house. I did not accommodate sin and let myself slide into sinful ways. I left my father and my mother, and I got married and moved away.

For me, the most uplifting part of this week's Scripture is in Matthew 18:30-- Jesus says: "For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them!" This means that, even if we hate sin, or if we nervously confront sin, or despair that sin even exists, as Christians, we are never alone. We have each other and in that communion, we have Jesus. Fighting sin-- in ourselves, in others-- is not a lonely battle, like it was when I was a child. It is a collaborative effort, it is a collective prayer.

In 1 Corinthians 13, St. Paul says, "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put childish ways behind me." As an adult today, I can not -- and must not-- hide from evil any longer. St. Paul also says, in Ephesians 5:11, "Have nothing to do with fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them." In other words, as a Christian, I must remain silent no longer about evil and sin. I must speak of evil and expose it, or it will continue to flourish in the darkness.

God, may I accept hardship as the pathway to peace. May I take, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it. And may I always shine my light against the evil.
(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

My Heart Like A Fire

2011-08-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

Jeremiah's Complaint: "O Lord, you duped me, and I was deceived; you overpowered me and prevailed. I am ridiculed all day long; everyone mocks me. Whenever I speak, I cry out, proclaiming violence and destruction. So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long. But if I say, 'I will not mention Him or speak any more in His name', His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot." [Jeremiah 20: 7-9]

When I was about 3, my parents had me baptized as a Christian. My family had deep suspicions of religion and looked down on people of faith. But they brought me to this church as a place to meet the Right People. To them, it was a sort of Spiritual Charm School. A place to learn right from wrong. They did not necessarily take me to church for the right reasons, but it planted the seed. I give them credit for that.

When I was in grade school, my grandmother would mind my brother and me from time to time. Unbeknownst to my mother, her mother insisted that we kneel at our beds every night and recite the Lord's Prayer. Years later, when I was an adult, I recounted this memory to my mother. She was aghast.

When I was 13, I was confirmed and received my First Communion, all on the same day. This is how it was done in my church in those days. It was an overwhelmingly special day for me.

Then, when I was 14, my grandmother died suddenly, tragically. Just as abruptly, we stopped going to church. If I asked to go, I was told, 'We don't do that any longer.' I had no way to get to our church, which was clear across town. So reluctantly, I quit church. I had no choice.

A girl of 14 is not a child, but still, in my child's logic, I had a perplexed view of faith. I thought that if your family takes church away, and if church is a place where you learn your faith, then my mother was essentially taking my faith away.

After my grandmother died, I wanted so badly to ask to speak to a priest, because I had so many questions about death and the afterlife. But I did not dare ask. I knew that I would be shushed and told to forget about it.

I learned to push my faith deep inside me. It became like a tiny flame. It was still there, but it was invisible. This is how I protected my faith from the onslaught of the Unbelievers.

If my mother said something about America and the Almighty Dollar, I whispered to myself, "You mean 'Almighty God.' " I did not dare speak The Lord's name or praise Him aloud. But silently, I was desperately trying to neutralize my mother's words, so they would have no power over me.

If I suggested to my family that we give to charity, I was mocked for being too naive and idealistic. I was told, 'Oh, no! You do not give to charity! You keep your money for yourself!'

When I got out of university, I met the man who would become my husband. In retrospect, I find no better proof of God's sense of humor than the fact that my husband is Catholic. Except that it wasn't funny at the time; in fact, my family was beside themselves. Planning my wedding was a series of skirmishes over the number in the bridal party, the color of the bridesmaid's dresses, the date and time of the ceremony etc. I quickly understood that the real battle was not over the wedding, it was over the marriage.

I did stand up to my parents and marry this wonderful man. I even had a church wedding, before God, and before all my friends and extended family. But then, my parents refused to stand in the receiving line at the reception.

This was a Religious War of sorts and apparently, I was not winning. After I got married, my husband gave me a beautiful gold cross necklace as a gift. At gatherings with my family, I took to wearing the cross under my shirt collar. I could not face their backtalk, their dirty looks.

A few years ago, my father died suddenly. My mother, who had become elderly and in failing health, came to live near me and my family. It was then that God called me to convert. That was it, I had had it with this Religious War! I had even had it with God's so-called sense of humor. I despaired, 'God, HOW can you ask me to convert now?!' What He was asking was not funny, it was impossible.

Finally, I dipped my toe into the conversion process. I began meditating, praying and studying books. But when my mother came over, I hid the books and my Bible upstairs where she did not go.

The point is, God waited very patiently for a long time for me. He did not give up! He gave me a giant hint in sending my dear husband into my life. I still tried to ignore that tiny flame of faith.

But God did go go away. His calls only became more insistent. A wise advisor told me, "You can run but you cannot hide." This advice was both scary and thrilling. His words reminded me of Psalm 139: "Lord, you have probed me, you know me: you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. . . Behind and before, you encircle me and rest your hand upon me. Where can I hide from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee?"

I had become like Jeremiah. I was tired of pretending that my faith did not matter to me. I could not hold it in any longer. My tiny faith was growing inside me and, in my burning heart, I longed for God. The turning point came when I was made to see that my faith was not given to me by going to church, or even by what my mother did or did not teach me. It was given to me by God. And it was mine to keep!

Such a precious gift! I cried real tears, of relief, of great joy! God does not want us to lose that faith that He has given us. Psalm 139 goes on to say, "If I ascend to the heavens, You are there. If I fly with the wings of dawn. . . even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand holds me fast."

He is there if we suffer snubs from our family, overhear ignorant comments from mere acquaintances and even fall victim to extensive persecution. It is not easy to hold onto our faith, to nurture it, to encourage that flame inside us to grow, or to live our faith freely and openly.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 16: 24 to take up our cross and to follow Him. I still have moments of great doubt and even fear over this path. But God's gift of my faith is mine to keep! And at those times that I feel afraid, I pray that God will guide me and hold me in His arms.

God, I love You with my whole heart! Let my desire to be closer to You deepen my faith and trust in You.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Who Are You?

2011-08-22T19:09:00.000-07:00

August 21

"Jesus asked his disciples, 'Who do you say I am?' Simon Peter answered, 'You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.' Jesus replied, ' Blessed are you, Simon. . . for this was not revealed to you by man but by my Father in heaven. . . .I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.' Then he warned his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Christ." [Matthew 16: 13-19].

This Reading reminds me of my own conversion. I was a fairly unlikely candidate, despite my
part- Irish heritage. My parents had deep suspicions of organized religion in general, and genuine dislike of Catholics in particular. Out of a misplaced respect for my parents, I could not even contemplate choosing a church as an adult, certainly not a Catholic one.

Ironically, I married a Catholic. Then, I proceeded to faithfully attend Catholic Mass with my husband. Every Sunday, I sat on my hands when it was time to go up for the Eucharist. Perhaps some observers thought I was a perpetual visitor to the church. Others may have thought that I was some sort of awful sinner. The truth was, I was afraid.

If you look at this story so far, you undoubtedly see a young woman who is hopelessly confused about who she is. I was indoctrinated against religion and Catholicism; but then, I married a Catholic man, and attended church weekly for Mass, where I refused to participate.

What was I afraid of? I was afraid to reflect deeply and discover who I really was. I had received so many anti-Christian messages, that I was afraid to admit that I might actually be one!

After many years of this fence-sitting, I told my Irish cousin that I was toying with converting. Her response floored me! She said, "Well, I think you know who you really are!" This opened a flood gate of tears for me. It was as if God saw me, finally, for who I really am.

After that, I could not enter my church without silent tears flowing like a river down my face. All of my layers of defenses, my masks and personas melted away in the presence of God. If I did not know who I was, surely He did! My tears were tears of relief that I did not have to pretend any longer. And, in the end, I began to recognize that they were also tears of joy! After all those years of confusion, I could finally begin the process of figuring out who I really was.

But for the longest time, I did not want anyone to know that I was preparing to convert. At the time, my mother was still alive and every time she came over, I hid my Bible and catechism books upstairs. I did not want her anti-Catholic litanies to steer me off course or deter me from my goal. I also wanted more time to become more sure of my conversion and more secure in who I really was.

I still sometimes wonder why Jesus warned his disciples not to tell anyone that He was the Christ. I highly doubt that He was afraid, or did not know who He really was. But just maybe, He needed the time and the space, without undue interference, to become fully developed and to fully grasp his identity in His own mind. No doubt, He also wanted his disciples to slowly comprehend who He was, at their own pace, before they were to tell the world. There was danger, real danger of persecution and there was no need to tell everyone, until Jesus had solidified His own ministry.

It is said that we all convert, a little at a time, over our whole lives. This means that day by day, we become closer to God. And closer to being who God meant us to be all along. This is what Jesus had to do, even as the Messiah. This is what I need to be brave enough to do for myself -- to examine what is really in my heart, and to become fully the Self that God discerned in me, before I was even born.

Who are YOU in Christ?

God, I pray that, in becoming closer to You, I perceive Your plan for me. I pray that I become fully who you meant me to be.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

A Big Enough Love

2011-08-22T14:53:00.000-07:00

" A Canaanite woman came to Jesus, crying out, 'Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is suffering terribly. . . .' Jesus answered, ' I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.' The woman came and knelt before him, 'Lord, help me!', she said. He replied, 'It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.' 'Yes, Lord', she said, ' but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table.' Then Jesus answered, 'Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.' And her daughter was healed from that very hour." [Matthew 15: 21- 28]

There are only a few stories in the Bible that I have felt must be a terrible mistake. This is one of them. HOW, I ask, can Jesus be so callous to a woman who is so obviously in distress over her daughter-- just because this woman is from the "wrong tribe"! I thought Jesus was so holy! I thought He was purely divine! I thought He was perfect!

How could Jesus have compared this woman to a lowly creature like a dog? And how could this woman be forced to argue with Jesus, even stooping to accept the designation of "dog" so that she may beg for a few scraps from Jesus' table?

I have been re-reading this Scripture, so I can understand, and try to accept, a Jesus so dismissive, so biased, even so angry. As I was reading these verses, I began to feel a sens of outrage.

Then it hit me. Yes, Jesus is divine but he is also human. He errs initially with this woman. Then he comes to see that this woman has such faith in Him and in His healing love, that He can reach out to her and even heal her daughter.

In some ways, this story of Jesus saves me too. This human side of Jesus saves me from entirely hating myself for the times that I have judged others for superficial reasons.

Sadly, it is only too human for us to judge others harshly. The question is, will I allow this bias to become my attitude forever? Will I simply shrug at my humanness and hate myself for this? Or can I learn and grow in love, as Jesus did? Can I remain on watch against this tendency to judge? Can I change like Jesus did?

Recently, I was on holiday in a beach town of approximately 400 residents. There is one Catholic church there, and that is where I attend Mass when I am on vacation. The week of this Reading, there were people from all over the world celebrating Mass together-- families from Canada, the United States, Asia, the Middle East. The irony was not lost on me.

I looked around me, and I heard all of our voices blended together in reciting the Our Father and in singing the hymns. There were low voices, high voices, mens' and womens' voices, even off-key voices. But somehow, all of our voices became one and echoed beautifully against the wooden rafters of the tiny church. We became one in Christ.

And I thought, if Jesus' love was big enough to engage, to welcome and to heal the woman and her daughter from Canaan, why can't my love be big enough too?

God, help me to see all of your children, the world over, as Your children, and as my brothers and sisters.

Love to All!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Our Blessed Mother

2011-08-19T06:44:00.000-07:00

August 15/ The Feast of the Assumption of The Blessed Virgin Mary.

" From this day, all generations will call me blessed." [Luke 1: 39]

The Feast of the Asssumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary marks the day that the Blessed Virgin Mary rose, body and soul, to Heaven. To that point, the only other person who had risen, body and soul to Heaven, was Jesus.

The celebration of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin shows the remarkable degree to which Catholics revere Mary.

But why?

If you ask many Catholics about their fascination with Mary, you will get many answers. Some will undoubtedly speak of praying the Hail Mary. In particular, many older women will speak of how close they feel to Mary, and to God, when praying the Rosary.

I have always admired how easily Catholics recite the Hail Mary. It is a short prayer but not so easy to learn. The words are precise, but do not necessarily flow readily. Before I converted, a family member gave me a book of Catholic prayers. I immediately turned to the Hail Mary. Given that I later converted, the fact that this relative gave me a Catholic prayer book seemed prophetic.

As I was converting, my young son helped me to memorize this prayer honoring the mother of Jesus, who is the Blessed Mother of us all. I began to understand better how Mary is an integral part of the fabric of our faith.

But when I think of Mary, I think of a special moment that occurred several years ago. My husband and I waited 15 years to become parents. At a certain point, we had begun sadly accepting that we might never become parents. Then, one night I had a vivid dream.

I dreamed that I was holding a baby. I could feel the softness of the baby's skin against me. The baby's hair was fine and silky. I could even feel the baby's breath, and the weight of the baby against my hip.

When I awoke, I was shocked that there was no baby. It had all been a dream! Right away, I shook my husband awake. I told him that our baby "was coming", that we would not remain childless. My husband protested, "But it's just a dream! How do you know?" I replied, "I just know!"

And one month later, we received the news that we would indeed be parents. After our baby was born, I was stunned to see how, as our baby grew, he came to resemble the baby in the dream.

Many asked me how I could possibly have waited so long for the motherhood that I so desperately desired? I replied, "Because I had faith!"

How will YOU let Mary into your life?

God, with you, nothing is impossible. I pray that, like Mary, I may have faith and believe.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Walking On Water

2011-08-05T12:54:00.000-07:00

" During the fourth watch of the night, Jesus went out to the disciples, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost", they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them, 'Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid.' 'Lord, if it's you,' Peter replied, 'tell me to come to you on the water.' 'Come,' He said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!' Immediately, Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. 'You of little faith,' he said, 'why do you doubt?' [Matthew 14: 25-31].

I was given this Scripture to read during my conversion to Catholicism. The exercise was to meditate upon the image of Jesus reaching his hand out to me and saying, "Come".

I dutifully went to meditate and pray in the chapel. I closed my eyes tight and tried with all my might to visualize Jesus in his flowing robes, with his kind eyes and outstretched hand, beckoning me. All I could retrieve was the outline of his hair and robes. There was no face! Even the outline of Jesus seemed hazy and far away.

I tried again over successive days, each time trying to pray differently, trying to squeeze my eyes tighter, or trying to stare at the flame of the perpetual candle, willing Jesus to find me.

Nothing worked. What was I doing wrong?

I had decided to convert at a time in my life when it seemed everything was falling apart. My father had died abruptly, leaving me in charge of my increasingly frail mother. My best friend had been diagnosed with cancer and was losing the battle. Painful memories of my childhood were coming back. I seemed to need Jesus more than ever. Yet, I could not seem to "will" him into my line of sight.

Despite all the painful and difficult things I had experienced while growing up, against all odds, I had graduated with honors, landed a great job, gotten married, become a mother. Given my dysfunctional family, and my childhood of neglect and rejection, I had "walked on water". I had achieved miraculous things, and they were things that one could not have expected from me, given my history. But I had never given myself the time or the luxury to reflect or to pray. I was too busy doing. I was spending all my energy surviving.

After some time during my conversion, I realized why I could not see Jesus. . . . I was figuratively "looking down". Yes, I had "walked on water", accomplishing the impossible. But the minute I focused on all the obstacles I had faced, when I felt fully the wind and the waves surrounding me, I began to sink!

I needed Jesus, because I was in a thick storm. I was overwhelmed by what I was going through at the time, and by all I had gone through up to that point! The past and the current storms were whirling around me, so that all I could see and feel was the pain and the fear.

Before my conversion, I had neither self-awareness nor a faith life. In short, I was nowhere and sinking fast.

How many times have you collapsed emotionally only AFTER you have accomplished the seemingly impossible? Somehow adrenaline helped you to practically glide your way through a frightening storm. But when you pause and have time to think, it is only then that the weight of what you have faced causes you to sink. Probably, Jesus was with you all along, but you were too busy conducting triage at the time to notice.

Some would say that proves exactly the danger of "thinking too hard". Believe me, I have been accused of that plenty of times! People think that if you "dwell on the negative", that guarantees that you will sink. Typical advice from these well-meaning people is to "do" but not to think too hard.

Actually, the opposite is true: I spent most of my life frantically trying to survive, but never reflecting upon what I was fighting. If you are not aware of the storms in your life, you will never fully understand what you face. To battle your enemies, you need to discover who or what they are. To ignore the storms in your life or the evils in the world is to be dangerously naive.

In my young life, I was not aware of my enemies-- of my "storms". I simply bullied my way through life and wondered why I was so miserable-- so afraid, so overwhelmed, so full of doubt. I did not even know enough to identify my obstacles OR to pray about them!

Think of Elijah from this week's second reading. After doing the utmost for God and finding himself a target of the Israelites, he runs for his life. He hides his face in his cloak and cowers in a cave. The Lord tells him that "the Lord will be passing by". Elijah first sees a strong, heavy wind, then an earthquake, then a fire. But he discerns that the Lord is not in any of those things. You see, the Lord does not bring wind, earthquake or fire. Nor is the Lord IN these things.

Nor does it work to run for one's life, hide in a cave or pull one's cloak up over one's face.Sooner or later, the winds, earthquakes and fires of life find us. This reading goes on to say that after the fire came a gentle whisper. THAT is where God -- and Jesus-- are to be found!

During my conversion, I began to reflect and to pray. I began to dwell on the crises and storms that had swamped me my entire life. As I absorbed the impact and true meaning of these trials, I began to sink!

Gradually, I came to see that I needed Jesus more than ever! I finally understood that, as I became more aware of what was threatening me, I needed to deepen my Faith. It was only when I realized that I was not alone, when I reached for the outstretched hand of Jesus, that I was lifted up, that I was saved!

Ignoring the storms in my life would not banish them from my sight. Simply staying positive would not prevent any storms from coming. But if I am aware of the trials I face and if, through Faith, I trust Jesus' aid, I will weather any storms that come my way.

And finding God and Jesus comes from that gentle whisper that I hear when I sit quietly and listen for God's voice!

Jesus, I pray that instead of fearing the times of trouble, I deepen my faith! Jesus, when I become aware, through reflection, of the storms in my life, may I reach out to You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Loaves and Fishes

2011-07-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

" Jesus. . . withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Crowds followed him on foot from the towns. . . . . As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, ' . . . Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.' 'We have only five loaves of bread and two fish', they answered. 'Bring them to me,' he said. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and they gave them to the people. They all ate. The disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.' [Matthew 14: 13-21].

Have you ever been in a desperate situation and wondered how you were going to get through the coming days, even the coming hours?

I have been in such a situation-- I was once a victim of a violent crime. I was alone, scared, wounded in all ways. The worst part was the sinking realization that there was no going home to my dysfunctional family, who would not take me in, and who could not help me anyway.

I was in a new city and had few friends. But throwing a dart at a map and striking out on my own would be a worse choice. In yet another new city, I would know no one.

At that point in my life, figuratively speaking, I had less than a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. I had sunk down, down and hit bottom.

I was so overwhelmed, it did not even occur to me to ask God to heal me. Or to send help. But He did send help.

I was a student then, and word got around. Students, who had little to offer, made meals for me. They invited me to sleep on their couches when I was too afraid to stay in my apartment alone. They shared class notes, they studied with me. They listened to my doubts, my fears. They invited me to eat lunch with them or go to a movie, so I would not be alone.

My young son recently asked me if I thought that the story of the Loaves and the Fishes is "real"? He said that he thought so, because "Jesus is a pretty powerful guy!"

I believe so with all my heart because of how, out of nothing, my classmates created something miraculously loving and healing. I felt enveloped in compassion. For the first time in my life, I felt truly loved! I was saved!

You see, Sin and Death are the great levelers. They burden us. They knock us down to the dark depths of the soul. All of us humans on earth are affected equally by sin and death -- rich and poor, young and old, without regard to race, gender or culture.

But Love is the great multiplier! Love begets love! It is infectious. It is contagious. A tiny smile, a warm gesture, a kind glance-- these are NOT meek and powerless. They are strong medicine for the soul. Love is what saves us!

I think of the French Resistance during WWII, how families in the French countryside, with so little to sustain themselves during wartime deprivation, took in and saved countless Allied soldiers. Or I think of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War in America; how ordinary families sheltered and fed slaves seeking freedom in the North, then passed them along to the next safe house.

The power of Love is not a small thing! It can change lives. It can begin with a small gesture and become a movement. It can change history!

Jesus, I pray that I may multiply my love for others, that I may feed their souls!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Prayer for Wisdom

2011-07-23T19:17:00.000-07:00

"The Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream at night. God said, 'Ask something of me and I will give it to you.' Solomon answered, 'O lord, my God, You have made me, your servant, King to succeed my father David; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act. . . . Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.' The Lord was pleased that Solomon make this request. So God said to him: 'Because you have asked for this-- not a long life for yourself, not for riches, nor the life of your enemies, but for understanding so that you may know what is right, I do as you requested. I give you a heart so wise and understanding that there has never been anyone like you up to now; and, after, there will come no one equal to you". [ I Kings 3: 5, 7-12].

I read this Scripture and I reflect upon the things that I pray for lately. So many times, my prayer life consists of complaining to God about how sad or discouraged I am! I ask God to make my son do his homework! Or I ask God to inspire my spouse to lose a little weight or to be more helpful around the house. Certainly, God is there for us at all times and for all reasons.

But this Scripture also reminds me of a time when my prayers were much more impassioned, more desperate.

You see, when I was in graduate school, I was the victim of a horrible crime. I am blessed to be alive today.

My dysfunctional family told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was to stay in school, or I would be a failure. No matter that I was so bruised and beaten that I could barely get out of bed. No matter that I was too terrified to stay in my apartment for fear that the guy would come back and finish me off. No matter that I was too battered emotionally and physically to focus on making a meal, let alone trying to study.

I remember so clearly sitting in my student apartment, sobbing, wondering how on earth I had gotten myself in this position? I did not know how I was going to be able to stay in school-- but I also knew that going home was not an option.

Suddenly, I began to pray! I was in my early 20's. I had not been to church since I was about 14, when my family stopped taking me to services. Prayer did not come naturally. And yet, I prayed.

You would think that I would have prayed for someone to punish my family for abandoning me. You would think that I would have prayed to land a lucrative job and become so rich, I would not need them any longer. You would think that I would have prayed that God send people to help me. Certainly, you would think that I would have prayed for healing in all ways.

Instead, what I prayed for was Wisdom! All I wanted to know was what kind of family would leave their daughter at a time like this? My prayer was sincere. All I wanted was to understand.

In those days, I did not even know who Solomon was. Decades later, I learned that I had prayed the Prayer of Solomon! I thought, Wow! How did I know to do that?!

I believe in my heart that this was a case of being showered with the gift of the grace of God. I have always had a very hard time understanding what God's grace means? But here was the clearest example. I needed God's protection, where no human protection was available. I was a mess, fully human, fragile, battered. My heart went out to God, asking, WHY, God, why?

And His heart went out to mine! I am still on the journey to seeking that wisdom.

But suffice it to say, His love and grace were with me at the time of my prayer. I did finish graduate school. Top half of my class! Many, many fellow students, and professors, came forward to help me. They supported me academically, they made sure that I did not give up.

How often today do we see people who desire only fame, fortune, power? When do we ever hear of people who simply strive to know the Truth, who want only to do the right thing?

God, I pray for Your grace to help me to see with Wisdom, to act with knowledge of Your ways, and to love others with compassion and understanding.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Judge Not

2011-07-18T09:19:00.000-07:00

" Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck our of your own eye', when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." [Matthew 7: 3].

A child is criticized for the shape of her nose; for her last name. She is taunted for being an "A" student. Her grandfather is successful and so she is "blamed" for being rich. That was me as a child. After awhile, I hid in my room and spent more time than necessary on my homework. It was not fun to go out and play any longer.

Years later, I went to graduate school. One afternoon, classes had gotten out early and I was home alone. There came a knock on the door. I thought it was my neighbor next door, who often came by to have a cup of coffee together before the long hours of studying.

Instead, I was confronted by a stranger with a ski mask and a long knife! I managed to survive but I was beaten pretty badly. And yet my family blamed me for opening the door. For opening the door! And when I said that I wanted to come home for awhile, to heal and to reassess, they called me a failure.

My name was shielded from the press because of the nature of the crime and because I was a young female. I had to sneak around the city hospital to get medical care, lie about my name and the reason for my visit. I was extremely grateful for the anonymity. But I could not shake the feeling that I was being shielded because the assumption was that I had done something wrong!

I learned, the hard way, what it is to be judged for something that I did not do.

There is an awful lot of judgment going around these days, isn't there? It is becoming an epidemic. Maybe because of the ubiquitous social media, the way that our smart phones have become an extension of our own hands, we have instant data at our finger tips. We make instant judgments. When we really know nothing.

Judging others has become an ugly parlor game. It is beyond charades, it is beyond Trivial Pursuit. It is voyeuristic, it is a viral vendetta.

This reading from Matthew absolutely does not forbid justice. We can and must have our legal system, our judges and juries. We human beings cannot get away with, literally murder, and beg off by saying, "Judge not!" This is a misuse of the Word.

I was subject to some harsh criticism and at a very young age. I have learned to spend my time, not indulging in judging others, but making sure that I deepen my relationship with God and that I try every day to emulate the love and gentleness of Jesus. I may stumble and fall in those areas, but my heart is pure and eager to obey God.

St. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 4: 3: "I care very little if I am judged by you. . . . I do not even judge myself. It is the Lord who judges me." From this, I have learned that I may form my opinion, but I let the secular judges and juries opine on what we humans are capable of. And in the end, I let God be the Final Judge.

St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 4 goes on to say, " Wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of men's hearts."

God, you know everything that is in my heart! As I learn to perfect my soul in you, teach me not to judge others for the process of their own Faith Walk.

(c) the Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Garden of Faith

2011-07-16T18:18:00.000-07:00

" A farmer went out to sow his seed. Some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among the thorns, which gew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop - a hundred times what was sown." [ Matthew 13: 1-9].

Jesus was a master story teller, wasn't he? Think about it, farming and gardening were commonplace in ancient times, when people were so much closer to the land. Even today, almost all of us can relate to the hard work, but attending joys, of a garden.

Jesus speaks of a garden as a metaphor of our Faith.

Through years of struggling over my faith, I have learned that my faith will not live and grow if I do not tend to it carefully. Just as the farmer must avoid planting in a place with no soil, or avoid planting in rocky soil, or amongst thorns, so I need to seek rich soil for my faith -- or it will die!

As a child, I was taken to church, but it was a church where people were mostly concerned with congregating with the Right People. The women wore their Sunday best, silky dresses with fur coats, jewels, fancy stockings. The men wore expensive suits, silk ties, their best leather shoes.

The people seemed dressed to impress, dressed for success. If parishioners like that treat church as merely an entree into Acceptable Society, are they truly nurturing their faith? Or are they more concerned with their status and wealth?

Perhaps they are like the one that Jesus describes when He says in Matthew 13: 22 -- "The one who received the seed that fell among the thorns is the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful."

At 14, my family no longer took me to church. I had been baptized, received my First Communion and been Confirmed. Church was now something that we had "accomplished". At that point in my life, I was making good grades in school, everything seemed to be going well. I had loved going to church, but if I asked my family to go, I was told, 'No, we already did that.' [?!!]. Being a young teen, I had to accept my family's answer; I was not independent enough to challenge that.

Without church and an active faith, without the practice of prayer, the joy of the Eucharist, the peace that comes from God, I became subject to every twist, turn and whim in my young life. With only 14 years of a very shallow faith, when life got difficult, I had no faith to draw upon. If things did not go my way, I could get angry; fall into despair; try to "make things happen" on my own, then get frustrated when nothing happened. I was lost, without knowing it. All I knew was that I seemed to have no anchor.

In short, I was like the one Jesus describes in Matthew 13: 20-21. --"The one who receives the seed that fell on rocky places is the one who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since he has no root, he lasts only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes, he quickly falls away."

Recently, I finally reached a point in my life where "trouble and persecution" were overwhelming me. My father had died unexpectedly, my best friend was terminally ill (and ended up passing away), I was caring for my frail, elderly mother; in short it felt like my world was falling in on me.

It began to dawn on me --I needed my faith back. I gradually came to see that I had not tended my faith in decades. And it showed. I was confused, unfocused, overwhelmed, in despair. I suddenly realized that God "was gone". I panicked.

I began to take tending my faith much more seriously. I got to work on my faith immediately by meditating and praying daily. I knew I finally had to take a stand and choose a church. When I received the Eucharist for the first time in decades, I finally felt more real joy than I had in a long time.

But I became all too aware that although I had a much stronger faith, I knew almost nothing. In matters of faith education, I was frozen in time, still that 14 year old girl who had stopped attending church so many decades earlier.

I was like the one Jesus describes in Matthew 13: 19-- "When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart."

Our faith may be strong in our hearts. But without any understanding of the Word in an intellectual sense -- in our heads-- it is all too easy to lose our way. As I returned faithfully to Mass, I realized that I did not know the Sermon on the Mount from the Ten Commandments; I did not know Pontius Pilate from Judas. I felt so ignorant, so foolish. What kind of Christian would I be if I did not try to study the stories in the Bible, or work on absorbing our shared history and the deep meaning of our sacraments? I decided to sign up for Bible Study, so that my faith will be not only deeply felt, but also comprehended in a meaningful way?

Now, I know that I want to be the one who "received the seed that fell on good soil, . . . who hears the Word AND understands it. He produces a [rich] crop." [Matthew 13:22]

God, I pray that my faith stays strong, that I continue to nurture a deeply rooted relationship with You, and that I hold You close to my heart through Your Word.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Adoption by God

2011-07-10T18:37:00.000-07:00

"Brothers and sisters, I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared to the glory to be revealed to us. . . . We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies." [Letter of Paul to the Romans; Romans 8: 18-23].

Recently, I was watching a cartoon with my young son. On this show, a cartoon character says  in dismay, "Wake me up when my life no longer stinks!"

Don't you feel that way sometimes? We all see crises and even tragedies in our lives. We fight to keep our jobs, to pay the bills, to raise our kids responsibly in an increasingly insane world. There are business people who should have integrity, defrauding thousands of people. Tornadoes or hurricanes or tsunamis devastating entire communities.

I look at my own life:   my family who had serious addictions, a suicide in the extended family, a near brush with death when I was four and almost drowned, a childhood of being bullied, a serious illness diagnosed at age 7 which was never properly treated, abuse in every form, leaving home and becoming a victim of a violent crime. For just about every year in my life, I can name a serious loss or family crisis or personal trauma .

And so when I first read this Scripture, my initial reaction was, "Are you kidding me?! All the pain, and trauma, and physical, mental and emotional abuse that I endured are "AS NOTHING?" Does anyone really think that I can ignore all that I have gone through in this life and be like Teflon, unscathed?!

And yet, lately, I detect a shift in myself. I notice that I no longer wallow in the "Who done me wrong song". Why? It is hard for me to articulate, but I have reached a point of no return, so to speak. There is so much to process and absorb, it is all too much to believe. To figure out. To understand. I cannot hold all that intense pain, from a lifetime of suffering, all in my mind at the same time.

After a lifetime of sorrow and pain, I am ready to turn my attention to something else. Yes, to imagining something so perfect that words cannot express it. I need to foresee a place that is sacred, brimming with love, permeated with peace. I need to visualize the glory of Heaven.

The other shift I see in myself is that I am ready to throw off the considerable burden of life's pain and instead put on a mantle of a fighting spirit. When I read this Scripture, I want to say, perhaps to those who have hurt me or who have not believed in me: 'Do you think that all the abuse and pain I have gone through will change me? Will these sufferings sway me from seeking God and trying my best to be humble and loving like Jesus? NO!'

St. Paul says in Romans 8: 35-38, " Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . .neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present or the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord!" Sometimes in the darkest of times, I follow this sentiment. I say, 'Nothing anyone can do to me will change who I am inside. I won't back down.'

I am even ready to say to the demons of my past, "I was adopted by God! HE is my Father and Mother! To Him, I owe my allegiance, not to all the sin and evil in the world. The pain of my past shall not rule me."

Yes, I do like this reading from Paul to the Romans. And I love what he said in 1Corinthians 14: 11 : "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see [God] face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully." Our true reality in the end will not be the struggling in this world. Our true reality is our eventual home with God.

What would YOU do if you lost everything, even as a child--  contemplated a mother who abandoned you, a father who abused you, a sibling who bullied you, extended family who were dead or living far away? Would you sink into despair? Would you become angry at the world?

Or would you fight? St. Paul famously said, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race. I have kept the faith." [ 2 Timothy: 4] Keeping the faith does not mean in this life that you will not have to fight, and run hard. Keeping the faith means that I believe in a purer place and a loving Creator whom I cannot see!

So I choose to rest in God, even in this life. I cannot ignore all that I go through in this life. (Neither can you, my friend.) But this life is merely a prelude, and not the End Stage. The final chapter occurs as we enter eternal rest.

God, as I face the struggles and pain of this life, I pray that I may imagine my life with You one day, in Your glory.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved

Rest

2011-07-05T13:35:00.000-07:00

"Come to me, all you who are weary and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." [Matthew 11: 28-30].

I have been a fighter all of my life. I am someone who is a survivor, who has lived by my wits, and who has utilized all of my own intelligence and strength to get through whatever life has thrown my way.

I came into this world fighting. While my mother was giving birth to me, she went into distress. I almost died before I was even born.

I come from a dysfunctional family. You know, various addictions in the family; every kind of abuse: verbal, physical, and more; medical neglect; lack of maternal affection (no one ever hugged me or said, 'I love you'); physical neglect such as, some nights I went hungry even though there was plenty of food in the house. There was a fire in a relative's house, chronic flooding in my family home, a suicide in the extended family.

At age five, I would tell my mother in mid-afternoon that I was sleepy, but she would say that I was too old to be tired. I learned to put myself down for naps.

By age ten, I had stopped speaking.

Getting enough to eat was a struggle. I knew that if I did not like what was served at meals, I was not getting anything else to eat. Once, I stuffed myself at the neighbor's house because I knew that I would not like what was being served for lunch, and I would not be given anything else to eat, not even a piece of bread. When my mother called me in for lunch after I ate my fill at the neighbors', I lied and said I was not hungry. I learned to get my nutrition at neighbors' houses or in the school cafeteria. I hoarded candy in my room.

You can call this being a Survivor. You can call it being a fighter. You can say that in some ways, I raised myself. Whatever you call it, I knew from a young age that I had only myself to rely on.

These were good skills that helped me to survive.The trouble is, some adults in my situation never learn to "turn off" the fighting stance. Even as an adult, safe and secure in my own home, I have been capable of Fighting Life. I have gone to the supermarket and become practically enraged that they were out of my favorite flavor of yogurt. (It's that fear of not being fed again.)

I have spent my life being treated as someone who is invisible. So if someone cuts me off in traffic, there I am, invisible again. It has at times been enough to ruin my day.

I have spent countless hours, thinking about these events, writing about them in my journal, venting about them with close friends and family. I have wailed that I do not WANT to have had this life of pain, these parents, these traumas.

Unfortunately, I cannot wave a wand at my past and make it go away. And I am no closer to understanding why this all had to happen to me, than I was when I started!

The point is-- at a this point, I have seen enough alcohol abuse in my family and the havoc it wreaked; I have been the brunt of enough verbal, physical and other abuses too traumatic to mention; I have been through enough turmoil over losing my faith, then re-gaining my faith again; I have paid enough of a price for my health issues that I suffer from, only because of childhood medical neglect; I have been through the recent painful losses of the family members who made such a mess of my life-- and wondered how I could ever mourn them; I have looked at my plate full of food and told myself that no one is going to take my food away today; I have struggled with balancing my need for rest against my survival instinct to push myself to the limit; I have pushed myself to feel confident to speak again.

In the end, I crave Rest! I am humble enough, finally, to understand that I cannot figure all this out on my own. Nor can I achieve healing alone! I am working hard on improving my lot. But some of this is going to take prayer, faith and "giving it to God."

Do YOU fight your life? How much trauma, crisis, anxiety and struggle will it take before you say, "Uncle!" Before you seek the Higher Power in your life to assist you?

I certainly do not mean that you should dig a deep, muddy pit, crawl in it and give up. But if you believe that only you alone can solve all your problems, that everyone else is someone to resist and resent, if you are angry at everyone and anyone because of what trials you have had, then your burden will not be any lighter.

Finally, I am seeing that I can talk to Jesus about all the painful paths in my life. I can ask Him to help me to accept everything that I have endured in my life, with humility and gentleness. I am gradually understanding that acceptance of my past does NOT mean that I have to like it! Finally, I realize that as I seek His ways of humility and gentleness, this is the path that will give me Rest. The path to peace is NOT resentment, undue anxiety, anger, hate, narcissism, greed, etc. . . .

Jesus, in my darkest moments, I pray that I will find with You, your humble and gentle ways. I pray that with You, I will find sacred Rest.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Independence Day

2011-07-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

In a recent survey, a dismal percentage of people knew that July 4, 1776 is the day that the United States of America gained its freedom. Then, there is the politician who claimed that Paul Revere rode his horse through New England towns to warn the British that the Americans were coming. Instead of the other way around!

It has been about a generation since I have heard July 4th referred to as "Independence Day". Or since I have heard Memorial Day referred to as Decoration Day, the day that we decorate the graves of military veterans who fought and died for our country. Now it is considered old-fashioned to refer to these holidays by their original names, to give any credence to their original meaning.

What does July 4th mean to you? Pigging out at barbecues, going to the beach or lake, watching fireworks? How about going to the mall to hit it big with the summer sales?

What does independence mean to you? Does it mean a fashion statement, the wearing of the red, white and blue? To some it means, "This is a free country! I can do whatever I want, whenever I want." It is a license to behave badly. An excuse for entitlement.

To the first pilgrims who came here, Independence meant, among other things, Freedom of Religion. Independence meant being free to practice their religion of choice, as opposed to being told which religion to practice, or being told not to practice any religion at all.

Today, Freedom of Religion has begun to sound a lot more like Freedom FROM Religion. People cringe if we mention God in our conversation. It is cooler to mention casually that we played a round of golf on Sunday morning, than to say that we went to church. Instead of celebrating that this is a country of all religions, we sweep clean any mention of religion or faith at all.

On Independence Day, I think of my grandfather. My grandfather volunteered to serve in WW I. That's it, volunteered! He rarely spoke about his experiences in the war. He simply believed in it, so he did it.

And yet, the fact was, he sat in a deep, dark trench in France, a pit filled with mud and rain water and human waste. Bombs and bullets rained overhead. In that pit of men who were packed shoulder to shoulder, there was gangrene, there was the deadly influenza, there were lice and never, ever enough to eat. From this, I think, must have come the phrase "War is Hell".

When I attend Mass, I think of my grandfather, and I remember that he and so many others fought for my freedoms-- including my freedom to practice my religion. And many others died in combat to preserve this freedom.

I went to Mass today and there were only a handful of people there. Maybe you are wondering why anyone would bother to go to services on this day at all?

My wish for all on this Independence Day is that you get to swim and eat great food, view fireworks, maybe attend a parade, and yes, even snag a bargain or two at the summer sales.

But most of all, I pray that whatever your religion, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, etc., that you find a house of worship this week and make it a point to exercise your Freedom of Religion. That you stand up and be counted in favor of Freedom of Religion. And that you celebrate the fact that in America, we welcome people from all over the world, no matter what their faith.

God Bless America! God Bless you all!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Corpus Christi

2011-06-27T11:53:00.000-07:00

"Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven." [John 6: 57-58]

This week we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ. Catholics believe that the host and the wine are not just the symbol of the body and blood of Christ. We believe that the host and the wine ARE the body and blood of Christ.

It took me most of my life to understand and to embrace this concept!

In my own defense, I was not raised Catholic. In my Protestant church, Communion was a "commemoration" of the Last Supper. We emphasized the part where Jesus says, "Do this in memory of me."

I came from a family who took me to church mostly to meet the Right People. My family wanted me to learn "right from wrong". I suppose any intelligent person could get this in ten minutes merely by reading the Ten Commandments and then throwing in a recitation of, "Love thy neighbor as thyself". So what was I going to church for?

It was not for receiving the Eucharist. Not in my family. Communion was held in my church only once per month. These were the Sundays that my family mostly avoided going to church. I do not know if this was because Communion made the service too long. Or if it was all that kneeling that was required?

So I figure that, since my First Communion occurred when I was 13, and since we stopped going to church when I was 14, and since we avoided Communion Sunday about half the time, I probably received Communion about a dozen times in all.

Then, after my grandmother died when I was fourteen, our family quit going to church. When I would ask why, I was told, 'You are already Confirmed, you don't need to go to church any longer.' (?!!!)

If I wanted any positive proof that God has a sense of humor, I would only have to focus on the fact that I married a Catholic!

For over 20 years, I attended Mass faithfully, but when it came to going up for the Eucharist, I sat on my hands. I did not feel called to convert. Nope, not me!

I thought that I could get full credit as a Christian if I went to Mass faithfully, even if I did not go up for Communion.

Then, my world began to collapse. My father died. My best friend died. My mother became increasingly frail, then terminally ill. It fell to me to care for her.

I went to my pastor in a panic. "Father", I said, "God is gone!"

First, he advised me to meditate and pray. When he wrote out a Scripture for me to study, I had this image of a doctor writing out a Rx! I wondered if the Scripture could really heal me?

Then, we began working on my conversion. I started to see my goal of receiving the Eucharist as reaching out for some powerful medicine! You see, I finally began to understand that I NEEDED to receive Christ! I NEEDED to be closer to God! I kept "hearing" in my head, "Only say the word, and I shall be healed!"

Did I feel different once I began to receive the Eucharist again? Absolutely I did. Each week, as I head back to my pew, I feel awe, joy, trepidation, peace. I pray that these feelings last with me the entire week.

It is hard for me to understand the person I used to be, the church-goer who used to believe that the Eucharist was optional! I realize now that the Eucharist is the whole reason for Mass. It is medicine, it is taking on the strength of Christ even as He suffered, it is taking on His healing power.

I think of all those times when I suffered a loss, or a crisis in faith, or a deep struggle in life, and even a singular joy in my life. I think of my own wedding, the funeral of my dear mother-in-law, the total joy at the birth of my son -- at none of those times was I able to receive Communion.

I wish I had been converted then. I wish I had those years back in Christ. I wish I had the love, the community, the strength of Christ, the closeness to the Father, via the Eucharist.

And the best part is that no matter where I go in the world, the Eucharist is the same in every Catholic church. As soon as I hear those comforting words inviting all to the sacred meal, I know that I am home. Everywhere I go, I am part of Something, part of a community. Everywhere I go, I am not alone!

How much more precious would the Eucharist be to you if it were taken away? I tell my son about the Irish people, who had to worship in secret when the English outlawed Catholicism. I tell my son that going up to the altar for the Eucharist is an act of affirmation, an act of solidarity with all those who have been persecuted, punished and jailed for receiving the Eucharist. I tell him to go up to the altar for Communion, in order to stand up for all those who fought and died for the right to receive Communion.

Do you think this happened only in the early church? Or only in less enlightened times in the 18th and 19th centuries? No, persecution still occurs today in several parts of the world. In some countries, Christianity is essentially illegal.

God, may I always remain grateful for the precious gift of the Eucharist! May I always feel Your strength, Your healing powers and Your love when I am in Communion with You!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Summer!

2011-06-22T17:57:00.000-07:00

"The little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.' " [Matthew 18: 14].

Finally. . . . it is summer. I remember as a child, on the last day of school, reveling in that exuberant feeling of freedom! I ran all the way home from school. I knew that I could sleep late every day, and on a hot day, read books under the towering maple tree in my yard. At night, I could look at the fireflies with amazement and wonder how in the world they got those little lanterns inside them?

We had no air conditioning in those days. My mother would make ices out of fruit juice. I would swing as high as I could on our backyard swing, just so I could feel a breeze blowing through my hair. I thought it was absolutely awesome that my mother put away the oatmeal and served us cold cereal for breakfast.

Then there was the day that it was over 95 degrees. I was staying with my aunt and cousins, and my aunt took us swimming. When we got home, I was still hot, so my aunt filled a bathtub with cold water and ice cubes. My cousin and I took an ice cold bath! We each barely slipped a toe in and we were screaming with laughter! I can guarantee you that this time, we stayed cool for a very long time!

This summer, I look forward to spending time with my son. I mean quality time, when we turn off the TV and the video games and the DVD's. It pains me to hear of parents who dread the summer, because they do not know what to "do" with their kids. The parents sign their children up for every activity they can find, because they are sure that there will be dire consequences if their kids are bored for one second.

It also pains me to see parents never really having a conversation with their children. They speak to their kids like they are a family pet: "Sit. Stay. Eat. Come here!"

When I have made the time to actually have a conversation with my son, I have been rewarded richly. Jesus intuitively understands the wisdom and openness that children have. He says in this Scripture, "Let the little children come to me. . . ."

In one such conversation with my son, we were going for a walk. We noticed the clouds scudding across the sky, and I remarked how I thought it might rain. My son looked up at the vast heavens and said, "Mommy, why does God have to be so BIG?" The question startled me. Such a wise question from such a little guy. I said, 'Yes, God is as infinite as the Heavens. BUT God can be extremely small too!' My son asked, "How small?" I said, 'Well, He made ladybugs!' My son thought about it, then commanded, 'Smaller!' I said, 'How about a grain of sand? Or a cell? Or a molecule?'

I have woven God and Jesus into our everyday conversations. When he has misbehaved, I have asked him, "Is God pleased now?" If he gets a little disrespectful in his speech, I talk to him about honoring his mother and father. And I have talked to him frequently about how God sent him to us and what a gift he is.

I truly wish that some adults in my early life had spoken to me in this way. Now, I have so much catching up to do. Not only about how to pray, or making right choices. Not only about learning the Scriptures. But also regarding feeling natural and comfortable in talking about God. I do not want to get all preachy and turn my son off from God. But I do want to show him how God is a necessary, everyday, even vital part of our lives.

How to capture these moments of sheer magic in our conversations? It seems like I have to go for more walks with my son. Sit under a breezy tree. Lie in the grass with him and look up at the stars on a clear night. Sit on the porch, eating fruit ices and musing on what I pray about. Or how about telling my son at bedtime, not just, "Say your prayers"; but also telling him that I will pray for him if he confides in me that something worries him.

God, as I seek to know You, may I impart Your ways to all the little children in my life!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Holy Trinity

2011-06-19T19:14:00.000-07:00

"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you." [2 Corinthians 13: 14]

We hear these words at just about every Mass. These words are the summation of The Trinity. The Holy Trinity is the mysterious unity of three crucial Christian beings, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, into One.

The world started with God: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God." [John 1:1].

Then came God's only Son Jesus: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son . . . . [John 3:16].

Last week was Pentecost, the birth of the Holy Spirit in the Christian church. "I will ask the Father and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever, the Spirit of Truth." [John 14: 16].

The Trinity is one of the hardest concepts to grasp in the Christian faith. It seems impossible for us to hold in our minds all three of these, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, separately, and yet, to simultaneously understand them as One!

I used to try to define each one for myself and to separate out the roles of each. I would agonize over when a Christian would properly pray to God vs. Jesus vs. the Holy Spirit? I would ask questions like, 'Who is the Great Healer, God or Jesus?' And the person would look at me puzzled and respond, "Both!"

Then I used to become impatient with myself. When would I be a mature enough Christian to truly understand the Holy Trinity?

Then I asked just about every Catholic I knew to define the Holy Trinity and the relationship of the three. If I asked six Catholics, I would get six different answers! I became totally confused.

Then, I would receive answers like, "Oh! It's a mystery!" For a time, I even began to think that Catholics possessed the "Secret if the Trinity", but were holding out on me. I became irritated. I wanted the "Secret" and I wanted it now! None of this gray area for me, I wanted things to be black and white.

Lately, I have begun to see the Holy Trinity with more acceptance. After all, if the Holy Trinity is God + Jesus + the Holy Spirit, what a HUGE, powerful resource for me to go to, anytime I need spiritual sustenance!

I still feel sort of edgy around these great spiritual mysteries, but I am willing to sit with this Mystery for awhile. I can meditate on the Holy Trinity, perhaps examine its vastness, as vast and awe inspiring as looking up at the night sky and seeing the billions of stars. We would not try to pick out every one of the billions of stars, would we? We would simply accept the majesty of them, as is.

If I did have to separate out the three elements of the Trinity, here is what I would sketch out in my feeble, humble, ineptly human way.

God, to me, is like the Head. He is the driver of the plans, the One who knows and understands and leads us.

Jesus is like our hands. He is the one who ensures that we serve others and that we demonstrate our Love for others.

The Holy Spirit is in our heart. The Holy Spirit is the seat of Truth, what we know in our hearts to be right, to be our conscience, to be who we really are.

It would make no sense to have a complete body without Head, Hands and Heart. Yes, we can talk about them separately, but for there to be true power, in thought, deed and conscience, we need all three. This, to me is the Trinity.

And so, the Holy Trinity, being One in Three, Three in One, brings us full circle. It makes us whole, complete, loving, intentional human beings. It makes us Christians.

God, may I know You, the Creator of all, through the love of Your Son, and through the gentle guidance of the Spirit of Truth.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Father's Day

2011-06-15T06:24:00.000-07:00

"Honor thy father. . . ." [ from the Ten Commandments]

The third Sunday in June is Father's Day. It is a day that has been celebrated in some way since the early part of the 20th Century. It began in America but is now celebrated almost all over the world.

It is a day to celebrate our relationship with our father, the love and affection and good example that he always imparted. Honoring one's father comes so naturally to some.

Others of us have grown up with a decidedly more complex and difficult relationship with our fathers.

Maybe your father was emotionally distant? Maybe he was even verbally abusive? Maybe he was always absent, either working too many hours or preferring to be off with his buddies rather than being home with his family?

I truly loved my father, but he was deeply flawed. How to honor such a father? I have to say that in the past few years, I have announced that I hate Father's Day. Sometimes, I see a father out and about with his tiny daughter, maybe at the park, maybe at the airport. They snuggle and hug and giggle together. This is something I never had. I feel a surge of envy. A pang of loss at the pure fatherly affection that I never encountered in my young life.

But then, as I watch the scene, a joy comes over me! No, I never felt such safety and security in my father's arms. But to watch another father's pure love unfold is exactly what is RIGHT about the world! It is an antidote, a redemption over all the abuse and hatred and anger in the world.

Some adults with my experiences are so closed and angry that they shut out all father figures in their life, even God! I never could shut out God. First of all, He has had a way of insinuating Himself into my life, with such patience, sometimes with such insistence, that I cannot turn away. God knows, sometimes better than I do, that more than anyone, I need His pure and unconditional Love.

In my situation, I needed more unconditional love, even if it came only from God at first. I could not afford to let anger, pain, hatred or bitterness get in the way. Those attributes are the pathway to despair, a kind of living death.

And so, God has sent other father figures to me, in human form. Doctors who have helped me with not just my physical health but my overall well-being. My pastors who have guided me through rough waters. Gentle men I have met along the way who have imparted their lifetime of wisdom. And especially my dear father-in-law, the father I never had.

Lord, I pray that in seeking You, I discern Your endless and unconditional Love as my one true Father!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Pentecost

2011-06-13T15:06:00.000-07:00

"When the day of Pentecost came, [the Apostles] were all together in one place. Suddenly, a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit. . . ." [Acts 2: 1-4].

Pentecost means "fiftieth day" and is celebrated the 50th day after Easter, and ten days after the Ascension of the Lord. It marks the time when the Apostles were endowed with the Holy Spirit. With this birth of the Holy Spirit in the Church, the Apostles could go forth and preach the Word, by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus himself foretold the coming of the Holy Spirit in John 14: 14 -- "I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever -- the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will never leave you as orphans. I will come to you."

The Apostles were touched by tongues of flame but not consumed by the fire. This reminds me of the Burning Bush. This is the fire that enables them to speak God's Word across many lands.

Oh, Holy Spirit, the most elusive and mysterious element of the Holy Trinity!

What is the Holy Spirit? The Holy Spirit is like the old saying, 'I cannot define it, but I know it when I see it'!

It's when I have had someone on my mind, then the phone rings and it is that person on the other end of the line.

It's when someone dear to me is down and struggling with an awfully rough patch, and I don't have any idea what to say. Somehow the perfect words come to me. That is the Holy Spirit at work.

Often, when I do not evern know what to pray for, I ask the Holy Spirit for help. It feels like a whisper in my ear, a soft guidance towards the right path and against temptation, sin and death.

I was once out in the garden on a hot day, and after only 20 minutes of weeding, "Something" impelled me to quit and go into the house. Minutes later, there was a loud roar and an old ash tree fell to the ground right where I had been standing! Shall I credit the Holy Spirit?

But the Holy Spirit does not merely guide us away from danger. It draws us towards the seven gifts of the Spirit: Wisdom, Understanding, Right Judgment, Courage, Knowledge, Reverence, Wonder and Awe.

If we pursue these gifts, we receive the fruits of the Holy Spirit: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Generosity, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control. Couldn't we all use a lot more of these in the world?

Dear Holy Spirit, I pray that I can "hear" your guidance, that I can listen to your soft voice and receive your Gifts!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

A Gift

2011-06-09T18:22:00.000-07:00

"Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed, saying, 'I pray not only for these [apostles] but also for those who will believe in me through their word. . . . Father, they are your gift to me.' " [John 17: 20-16].

I think of all the Gifts that God has given to me: my very life, every breath, my beautiful home on a leafy, suburban street, my devoted spouse who calls himself "my anchor"; the fact that I have plenty to eat, a clear mind, a good education, clean water to drink. I could go on and on.

Then, I think back to my past life when I was a child: how, if I did not like the dinner that was given to me, I went to bed hungry; the various abuses: emotional abuses such as threats of being disowned, verbal abuse such as being called a failure, physical abuse such as being hit if I did not walk away peaceably and in time, medical nelgect, abandonment when I was in desperate times.

How have I come so far? I know in my heart that it is God who has made all the difference. God has been a great Gift in my life. I have listened and obeyed, and He has brought me faith, hope, love, mercy, patience.

I suppose I could have turned away from God and Jesus. I could have blamed God for my early and painful experiences.

I could have become so angry over the reality that my life was not physically safe and secure, let alone nurturing, that I refused to let God and Jesus into my heart, where they belong.

I could have been so deeply buried in my pain that I was unable to see Their presence in my life.

In truth, I had no humans on my side, no mother who could nurture me, no father who could love me appropriately, no brother who could respect me, no relatives who could see the abuse and end it, no neighbors that my family was close to who could rescue me. When you have no human beings on your side, you have God and Jesus as your friends, as your family.

The fact that despite all this neglect, abuse, pain and suffering, I was able to see God and to accept His love, to recognize Jesus and attempt to emulate Him -- is nothing short of a miracle.

Besides, at an elemental level, I could not afford to turn away from God, from Jesus -- despite all my pain, despite any resentment at how my life turned out, despite my moments of despair or my feelings of worthlessness. If I wanted to survive, I had to turn towards God and His Son -- not away-- to reach out for their love.

Then we come to this Reading. In this Scripture, Jesus prays for His apostles AND for all who will believe. In other words, He prays for US!

Not only that, Jesus says that His apostles -- and by extension, all those who believe in Him -- are gifts from the Father!

Jesus says, "Father, they are Your gift to me!" WE are that precious in the eyes of God and His Son!

We are the gift to Jesus because Jesus needs us, as His friends to carry on His Word, and His love. And as gifts to Jesus, we are the saving grace for each other. I truly believe that God has brought me many people in my life who have rescued me. The teacher who invited me to stay after school to help decorate the classroom and who, by this simple act, showed me that I mattered. The man who became my husband, who saw the value in me, despite al of my pain. The doctor who recognized that my troubles were a lot deeper than my physical ailments and who insisted on helping me. Those in my parish who have encouraged me, prayed with me and for me, believed in me. In short, I have been the recipient of much love.

God, through Your power, and through the love of Your Son, I have been saved. I pray that I can recognize how precious I am in Your eyes as well!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Early Church

2011-06-05T18:45:00.000-07:00

"Then [the apostles] returned to Jerusalem . . . .When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew; James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus and with his brothers." [Acts 1: 12-14].

Growing up, didn't you just love to hear about how your parents met, and about how you were born? Maybe your parents met on a fluke, on the merest of whims. Maybe you were born in the middle of a huge blizzard. But born you were; and so, your family was born.

The readings from Advent through Pentecost remind me of those beloved stories of beginnings. The times when you would beg your grandfather to tell you once again about his war stories, and how he survived to come home and start a family. Or when you would plead with your parents to retell the story about the night when you were born.

Now, at this point in the Christian year, we have just about all the elements of our church. We were given the sacrament of the Eucharist at the Last Supper.

In this Reading, we have this vision of the apostles gathering together with the women of the early church to pray and to remember Jesus. In the readings of this Easter season, our Christian church is born!

I love this image of the early Christians, gathering together in a simple room, to be in community and to pray. Isn't this what participating in Mass is all about? Isn't this what prayer is all about?

As I reflect, I realize, the apostles needed to pray together frequently before going out once again to serve, to minister to others, to live the message of love that Jesus taught. Their community prayer is what binds them together, what gives them strength as a group and as individual Christians.

How often do I regard attending Mass as a chore? An obligation? A ritual governed only by rote?

How often do I think that prayer is something to go through alone?

How often do I forget to pray before I try to minister to someone?

How often do I discount the power of prayer when I pray with many Christians, many voices? ('When two or more are gathered together, God is present?').

How can we as Christians recapture that profound sense of community, that need to be together in prayer? How can we recapture that excitement, that relief, of identifying ourselves as Christians; of identifying with each other as Christians, one flock, a family?

God, I pray that You draw me towards other Christians, to the celebration at your table, to the praise and power of Your name!

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2011. All Rights Resrved.